


Hard Up in Hightown

by AndrastesKnickerweasle



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Bad cat puns, Dirty Talk, Fluff, Humor, Light Angst, M/M, Masturbation, Modern Thedas, Phone Sex, Roleplay, Romance, Second-Hand Embarrassment, Sex Toys, i swear it's actually light this time, no really they're terrible puns
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-11
Updated: 2017-04-30
Packaged: 2018-07-14 12:17:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 45,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7170755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AndrastesKnickerweasle/pseuds/AndrastesKnickerweasle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hard Up in Hightown?  Call now!  1-800-HRD-HTWN!  Hot local Kirkwall singles waiting for your call 24/7!</p><p>Dragon Age Fenders Modern Phone Sex AU... it's pretty much exactly what it says on the tin.  Sorry, not sorry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Happy Hour

“Whoever declared this ‘happy hour’ can go sod themselves.”

“Aw, what’s so unhappy about it sweetling?”  A sultry female voice purred across the bar counter.

Anders sighed wearily, lost in deep sullen contemplation of his tepid beer.  He summoned a bit of frost from the Fade in the futile hope that chilling the glass might make its contents less awful.  The mage would have ordered something stronger, but even when he was away from the clinic, his boss’s voice still boomed through his head judgmentally.  _Drinking in excess is a vice Anders… a few hours of drunken revelry is not worth cirrhosis of the liver…_ “…I wouldn’t know a bit of fun if it came up to me and did the spicy shimmy…” he mumbled bitterly, perhaps exaggerating a _bit_ on Dr. Justice’s admittedly well-meaning but more often than not _unasked for_ advice. 

Isabela leaned her hip against the counter and ran a finger along the back Anders’ lightly freckled hand as he cradled his beer.  “Care to test that theory Sparkle Fingers?”  Anders scoffed at the salacious nickname he’d earned after spending one wild night with his friendly neighborhood bartender a lifetime ago.

Anders shook himself from his moping quite literally, a few more strands of blonde hair falling loose from his pony tail as he focused his attention on the admittedly lovely bartender currently invading his personal space.  “Sorry Isabela, best to ignore me.  It’s just… it’s been a long day.”  He extracted his hand from the vixen’s advances as gracefully as he could.  The mage gave her what he hoped was a smile charming enough to convince her he was fine so she would leave him to nurse his rather flat beer in peace.  “You know how my mouth tends to run on ahead of me when I’m tired.” 

“But it always goes to such interesting places!”  Isabela’s full ruby lips curled teasingly as she leaned forward, putting her ample bosom on full display, not that it interested Anders much. 

Oh it was a nice bosom, as far as bosoms went, but the flirtatious bartender was hardly his type.  In his younger days he wouldn’t have hesitated to make a pass, but now the thought of a night with her seemed daunting, and frankly _exhausting_ , rather than the thrill it should have been.  Besides, Isabela wasn’t the type to be tied down, and Anders wasn’t in the market for no strings attached anymore.  Strings didn’t just restrain, they mended patches and held broken things together, kept things up when they really ought to have fallen long ago.  Anders needed strings these days, needed pillow talk and lazy mornings, needed someone to pack lunches for with sickening little love notes tucked between the napkin folds, someone to feed Pounce and give him snuggles when he’d be home late… someone to tell him it was ok to fail sometimes, and someone to hold him when he did.  His life often felt as though it were held up and bound together by a series of tenuous tangled strings, making it all the more devastating when the one that held the whole mess together had snapped. 

Anders blinked and hastily wiped away the moisture he felt burning in the corners of his eyes.  He tried to hide the motion by sipping on his beer.  An admittedly amateur move when under the buxom bartender’s expert scrutiny.  “Oh my poor baby, this is more than just ‘long day’ sighing, this is full on sorrows drowning I’m witnessing.”  Isabela said with a small pout, a glimmer of genuine concern flashing through her dark amber eyes.

“Using this swill is akin to drowning them in a kiddy pool.”  Anders scoffed even as he took another unsatisfying swig.

“True, and it will get the job done about as well; slowly, uncomfortably, and with considerably less grace.”  She smiled wickedly and reached for a bottle of top shelf imported Starkhaven Scotch.  “Want something more along the lines of a Jacuzzi?”  Innumerable bangles jingled against her sun-kissed skin as she wiggled the bottle enticingly.  “On the house.  I won’t tell Varric if you won’t.”  She stage whispered with a smirk.

Anders favored his friend with a smile, tired and sad, but warm at its core.  “You are a tempting minx Isabela, but I’ll pass.  I don’t really intend to drown my sorrows tonight, maybe just get them a little pruney.”

Isabela didn’t push, which Anders always appreciated about her.  She merely put the bottle back and propped her elbows on the bar, framing her beautiful face on hands adorned with glimmering rings and chipped nail polish.  “Alright sweetling, I’ll bite.  What are these sorrows that have got you so down, and where can I find them to kick them in their respective groins for you?”

“You’re too kind Isabela, but there’s only one groin in question, and there’s no need to kick it.  It…” his heart clenched as he was transported back to their familiar bedroom, now filled with the scent of unfamiliar cologne, an unfamiliar voice moaning his boyfriend’s name- “It’s over.  I’m alright, it’s just… today would have been our anniversary.  I suppose I’m just a bit lonely tonight.”  Anders sighed and absently ran a finger along the rim of his pint glass, lost in memories of birthdays, Satinalias and anniversaries spent in far better places than a dive bar.

“You poor thing.”  Isabela clasped his hand in her own warm ones, “How long has it been?” 

“We broke up 3 months ago.  Or rather I kicked his cheating arse out.”  He grumbled as he unsuccessfully tried to hide his faintly trembling lip behind his drink.

Her lips quirked into a sad smile, “And knowing you like I do, you probably have it down to the hour since he’s been gone.”

“3 months, 8 days, 17 hours and…” he gave a cursory glance at his phone, “About 40 minutes.”

“You poor tortured soul!  All that time and not a single bite from the plentiful and handsome fish in the putrid cesspool that is Kirkwall?”  Isabela asked with a pout.  Anders couldn’t quite tell if she were serious or teasing to cheer him up, which likely meant it was a bit of both.

Anders sighed and raked a hand through his hair, pocketing his ineffectual hair tie in the process.  “It isn’t as though I’ve really been casting my line these days ‘Bela.”

“Well there’s your problem!  Nothing like a new fling to make you forget all about the old one!”

“He wasn’t a fling.  I don’t do _flings_.”  He scoffed and gave her a halfhearted glare, “Not anymore.  You know that.”

“I know, and it’s all very domestic and adorable of you.”  She leaned forward and patted his hand, “But Anders, sweetling, you know I say this out of love, but you need to stop moping and doping around this dive and…  Get.  Yourself.  _Laid_.”

Anders quirked a thoroughly unimpressed brow.  “Is that your medical opinion then?”

“Oh haha Dr. Anderson.  It’s not as though a healthy sex life hasn’t been scientifically proven to lower blood pressure, improve immunity, relieve pain and stress, and reduce the risk of prostate cancer, plus feel generally _incredible_ , but what do I know?”  Isabela finished with a triumphant smirk.

Anders couldn’t help but smile back.  “You really should come down to the clinic and argue the merits of casual sex to Dr. Justice.  I’d pay to see it.”  His smile slipped into a grim smirk, “But sadly for your theory, many of those benefits can be found in orgasm alone, not the act of _sex_ , saving me the trouble of that awkward dating period.  My hand doesn’t particularly care if I don’t make an effort on my wardrobe and doesn’t tend to require _too_ much small talk.” 

“You are _hopeless_!”  Isabela sighed dramatically and reached into the back pocket of her cut off shorts.  “If you’re going to insist on being stubborn, at least have your ‘date’ there dial up this number and make things a bit more interesting for your poor pathetic self.  If not for your sake, then for mine!  It’s putting off _my_ libido just thinking about you sitting alone in your flat, crying and jerking it to sad power ballads while your cat watches.”  She pronounced as she fairly shoved a business card into his hand.

“I don’t- wha- power ballads- Pounce does not _watch_!”  Anders sputtered indignantly. 

Isabela merely gave him a knowing look and whispered, “He _does_ , and he judges you.”

Anders groaned and rolled his eyes before finally bringing his gaze down to read the card she had handed him. 

 

_Hard Up in Hightown?  Call now!_

1-800-HRD-HTWN

_Hot local Kirkwall singles waiting for your call 24/7!_

“No.  Absolutely not.  I may be pathetic, but I haven’t quite sunk so low as to pay someone to get me off over the phone.”  He glared as his fingers twitched to crumple up the card.

Isabela grinned wickedly and leaned forward.  “What’s pathetic about a bit of dirty talk?  I’ve called a few times, nothing to be ashamed of.  It can be incredibly hot, making a connection with someone without having to care what either of you look like or what tomorrow will bring.  You get to skip all that awkward small talk and get straight to the good bits, just a sexy voice in your ear, weaving a fantasy for you… for a nominal fee.  Sounds like exactly what you need, not a _fling_ , but better than your hand alone.”  She quirked a finely sculpted brow in challenge.  “Tell me I’m wrong.”

Anders felt himself blush traitorously as he actually considered it.  How different was it really from just his hand for company?  It wasn’t as though he’d ever tried it, so how did he _know_ he wouldn’t like it?  If he felt uncomfortable, there would be nothing stopping him from just hanging up… and no one would have to know that he called…

Isabela sensed her victory was close at hand and turned the card over in his lax grip.  “Here Sparkle Fingers.  Use this promo to get 20 minutes free.  You’ll _thank_ me.”

His lips thinned as he studied the card, treacherous plans already forming in his mind as he shoved the paper in his pocket.  Anders quickly laid down a few notes to cover the subpar beer he’d drank less than half of, plus a more than generous tip for the nosy bartender.  “I- I’ll think about it.”  He mumbled as he pushed away from the bar and hurried toward the exit, suddenly feeling as though everyone there were watching him, as though they knew what he was planning- _might_ be planning.  Which was stupid really.  This whole thing was stupid, and frightening… and more exciting than he could bring himself to admit.

 

* * *

 

Anders fumbled around his flat to kill as much time as possible, putting off what seemed to be the inevitable the longer the innocuous little business card burned a hole in his pocket.  He did the dishes, snuggled with Pounce, ate a TV dinner, washed the fork he’d used, fed Pounce, changed into his pajamas… _Maker what if they ask me what I’m wearing?!  Don’t they ask things like that?..._ changed back into his scrubs, changed into a nice shirt and jeans, felt like a colossal idiot and changed back into pajamas.  _There’s no rule that says I have to tell him the truth about my bloody wardrobe.  Or tell… her?_   Anders didn’t care too much either way, but if he had to choose, imagining a deep male voice whispering filthy things to him… it _did_ things… things that told him wearing loose fitting flannel sleep trousers had probably been a wise course of action.  _Maker calm down!  I’m getting so worked up he’s liable to say ‘hello’ and I’ll come right there in my trousers like a blighted teenager!_  

He took a deep breath and sat on the couch.  The bed seemed… too much, like he was taking this too seriously.  Which he wasn’t.  It was just phone sex.  Sex, over the phone.  He’d done much wilder things in his misspent youth, a little dirty talk was nothing!  Anders absently fiddled with the single threadbare throw pillow that covered the rip in his sofa, shoving it this way and that, straightening it just so- 

He huffed and shoved the pillow against the armrest before plopping down to lay his head on it, his phone held out before him.  The close up of Pounce sniffing at the camera with his adorable little pink nose that served as his background stared back at him accusatorially.  Thankfully the cat had wandered into the bathroom to use his litter box and Anders had closed the door behind him.  He felt more than a little guilty at trapping him, but there was no way the only faithful companion he had left would bear witness to just how far he had fallen. 

His hand, or his ‘date’ as Isabela had depressingly (and accurately) described it, rose to bring up the keypad and dial the number with slightly trembling fingers.  Anders closed his eyes and held his breath as the phone rang. 

_‘Hello-‘_

Anders fairly jumped out of his skin as a sultry female voice purred over the line.  _A woman, alright, I can work with that._   “I- ah- hello!  I-“

_‘-baby.  Hard Up in Hightown?  You’ve called the right place-‘_

“Maker it’s a blighted recording.”  He muttered as he ran his shaking hand through his hair and took a deep breath.

_‘-We’ve got hot young local singles just waiting to make your fantasies a reality.  Please say or enter your credit card number and we’ll get started baby.’_

As he moved the phone away and the options blinked helpfully to the screen, Anders’ finger hovered over the red end call button for a few fleeting seconds and chewed on his lip.  He sighed heavily and brought up the keypad to enter his card number and returned the phone to his ear.

_‘Ah- that’s so good baby!  Do you have a promo code?  Please say yeeesssss or no.’_

“Did she just moan 'yes'?!”  Anders muttered incredulously.

_‘I’m sorry, I was so excited, I didn’t catch that baby.  Please say yeeesssss or no.’_

“Y-yes, and stop calling me ‘baby’.”  He grumbled, becoming more convinced with each passing second that this was a terrible idea, but he had gone this far.  _Maker, in for a silver, in for a sovereign._   He thought in defeat as he entered the code Isabela had given him.

_‘Mmmm you push my buttons so well baby.  Looks like you’ve got twenty minutes with one of our hot local singles on the house!’_

Anders rolled his eyes, annoyance quickly replacing any arousal this hair-brained idea may have held.

_‘Do you want to talk to a man or a woman?’_

He coughed and sat up a bit straighter from his slouch on the sofa.  “A- ah- a man.” 

_‘Alright baby, we’ve got a hot local single man just waiting to talk to you.’_

Anders gulped and gripped the phone tighter as the sultry recording abruptly gave way to more ringing.  _Sweet Andraste’s dimpled ars-_

**‘Hello?’**

Anders let out a spectacularly embarrassing squeak and promptly dropped his cellphone.  “Sorry, _shit_ sorry!”  He muttered as he scrambled for the phone, fearing he had mistakenly hung up in his flailing.  “Hello?  Are you still there?”  He gasped as he once again held the phone to his ear.

**‘Yes.  Are... you alright?’**

Maker his _voice._   Anders’ heart sped up as the rough baritone caressed his ear through the phone, his stomach tightening with renewed nerves even as it fluttered in acknowledgement of the sexiest voice he’d ever heard. 

**‘Hello?’**

“Shit!  Sorry!  I- oh Andraste’s knickerweasels, on a scale of one to ten, how obvious is it that it’s my first time doing this sort of thing?”  Anders muttered idiotically with a nervous laugh that ended with an awkward strangled sort of choking noise.

 **‘Hmmm I would say eleven.’**   Anders nearly swooned as a dark chuckle floated through the airwaves and straight to his groin.  **‘It is alright though, there is a first time for everything, and you can only improve upon… knickerweasels was it?’**

Anders laughed nervously and raked a hand through his hair, a small measure of tension leaving him at the smirk he could hear in the other man’s voice as he teased him.  _He’s got a sense of humor, I like funny, I can do this_.  “So- how does this go?  I’ve never- I mean- I already said that- but-“  _Maker why can’t I just shut up!_

**‘Do not worry, I will take care of you… what should I call you?’**

“Ah… what do people normally have you call them?  I mean, do I give you my name, or… a title?  Some sort of kinky pet name?”  Anders chewed on his lip and wished for the hundredth time that he were even a fraction less awkward than he was. 

Anders closed his eyes and basked as the quiet rumbling laugh sounded again **. _‘_ A name tends to be the norm, whether it is your real one or one of your choosing is up to you.  I can call you a title if you like or a…’ **he cleared his throat to gracefully hide a laugh with practiced ease, **‘…“kinky petname”, if you prefer.’**   There was a pause and a faint intake of breath before the man continued in a soft but serious tone.  **‘I will not call you “Master”, but anything else is fine.’**

“What?!  Oh no, of course not!  I’m not- that is- I don’t want you to do anything that makes you uncomfortable!”

The slight tension in the other man’s voice bled away and warmed easily once more as he continued.  **‘You will find there is very little that makes me uncomfortable… but I appreciate the consideration… Mr.-?’**

Anders took a deep breath and forced himself to relax.  It was only a name.  _Maker this is supposed to be easier than dating!_   He briefly considered having this mysterious velvet voiced stranger call him some sort of alias, something to give Anders the same sort of anonymity that the other man enjoyed, but rejected the notion in the end.  He had done this to make a connection, as fleeting and sad as it was, he didn’t want this sinfully beautiful voice whispering someone else’s name.  “A-Anders.  No mister, just Anders is fine.  It’s- that’s my real name by the way, or at least what everyone calls me.  Or- should I not have told you whether it was actually my real name?”

**‘You may tell me anything you like, and choose not to tell me anything as well, whatever makes you comfortable.  This conversation will stay between us… Anders.’**

A shiver ran down his spine as his name rolled off the other man’s tongue, the pleasant tingle settling low in his gut and confirming that for once Anders had said the right thing in this blighted conversation.  “Oh- good.  Though isn’t this- aren’t these things recorded?”

**‘No, I do not approve of such an invasion of privacy.  It is just you and I.  Relax Anders, we have all night to get to know each other.’**

Anders gave a grim smirk to the man on the other line, the man whose job it was to get a hot mess like him off in the next 20 minutes or less.  “Actually, I have this promo… so we only have 20 minutes… unless I don’t want to eat until payday.  Oh Maker, but what if- well- what if I’m… you know, almost _there_ , and the time is up?!  Do you just… hang up?”

 **‘I can ask you if you would like to extend your time when it is nearly up if you have not gotten…’** Maker that dark little chuckle of his would be the death of him, ‘ **…“ _there_ ” yet.  Though with the time you have left, I do not think you have to worry.’**

“You have more confidence in my ability to calm down enough to get _anywhere_.”  Anders lamented with a self-deprecating laugh.

**‘Or perhaps I have confidence in my ability to further excite you… and I do enjoy a challenge.’**

“Oh I don’t think you’ll have much of a challenge exciting me.”  Anders blushed as the words escaped unbidden from his lips.

**‘Is that so?’**

Anders shuddered out a sigh and forced himself to settle back a bit more comfortably onto the couch.  “You- you have a nice voice.”  He whispered as though revealing a great secret, which seemed utterly silly, but there it was.

 **‘Thank you.  So do you Anders.’**   Anders couldn’t stop the stupid grin from spreading across his lips if he’d tried.  **‘So where are you?  Are you in bed?’**

Anders quirked an eyebrow as the man’s voice settled into a deep and even timber, as though he were taking the first step of a well-rehearsed routine… which of _course_ he was, the man did this every night.  He wasn’t entirely certain how this line of questioning would lead to anything remotely sexy, all things about his tiny cluttered flat considered, but Anders figured he would trust the expert.  “I’m at home, on my couch.  It’s not terribly sexy I’m afraid, or comfortable for that matter.  It’s old and I wouldn’t be surprised if it collapsed halfway through the- ah- session… and there’s a bit of a rip underneath the throw pillow, so you can’t really see it most of the time… oh, and before you ask, I’m wearing pajamas, and not sexy ones either.  It’s a beat up tee shirt that says ‘Are you kitten me?’, and there’s a kitty face on it, and flannel sleep trousers, also with cats on them.  I- ah- I like cats, I have one, his name is Pounce.  Well, Ser Pounce-a-Lot technically, but I only ever call him that when he’s been naughty.  He’s in the bathroom now though, so he doesn’t, you know… _watch_ … because that would be weird, but I suppose some people might be into that?  Which is fine, I guess, but I- I’m not.  Aaaand I should just stop talking shouldn’t I?” 

The man had begun laughing softly around the time he described his oh so sexy kitten tee shirt, and his mirth had only seemed to increase as Anders rambled on.  Anders ran the hand not holding the phone down his flaming face with a groan of frustration.  **_‘_ Talk as much as you like Anders.  You certainly seem… honest.’**

“It’s ok to say I’m an idiot, I’d readily agree.  I tend to- to ramble when I’m nervous.”

**‘I like honesty in a man, and I very much doubt you are an idiot.  So… if you find your apparel less than ‘sexy’ and your couch uncomfortable, where were you before you came home?  Did you come from work?’**

Anders blinked at the odd question.  “Work?  No, well… _yes_ , I went to work today, but I was at a bar before I came home.  For happy hour.”  Anders blessedly clamped his mouth shut before he elaborated that it wasn’t as though he were an alcoholic or anything.  _Less is more Anders!  Shut up!_

**‘A bar hmm?  What kind of bar?’**

“Just a little hole in the wall, a friend of mine works there.  It’s dark, quiet, but not _creepy_ , there’s a- a pool table, but no one ever really uses it…”  He trailed off, not sure what the other man was after.

**‘Are you alone at the bar?’**

“Am I- at the bar-“ Anders’ eyes widened as he caught on to where he _thought_ this might be going, “Ah- yes.  I’m alone.”  He breathed, a flutter of excitement stirring to life in his belly.

**‘What are you drinking?’**

“Just a beer.  I’m not- I don’t drink often.”  Anders breathed, the tension in his frame ratchetting down a notch as the man’s voice brought him back to the bar tonight.  He liked the idea of starting out with something simple before jumping into some wild elaborate fantasy.  Just the Hanged Man… some place safe, comfortable.

**‘I see you there at the bar.  What are you wearing Anders?’**

Anders let out a soft laugh, “What’s this obsession with my wardrobe?  I’m in scrubs, I came from work at the clinic.  And a coat… it’s cold.  Sorry, not sexy again.  Should I make something up?”  His bottom lip found its way between his teeth again.

**‘What makes you think that is not sexy?  Scrubs tell me you are a doctor or nurse, and therefore you must possess some manner of intelligence.  I find intelligence incredibly sexy.’**

Anders felt his cheeks heating.  “Doctor.  Though considering I’ve yet to put together a full sentence without stammering like an idiot, I wouldn’t blame you if you thought I just slept with my professors in med school.”

That chuckle again.  ‘ ** _Did_ you?’**

Anders laughed in earnest, sharing in the grin he could hear in the other man’s voice.  “No!  Now the _TA’s_ …”

**‘You are funny Anders, a trait I also find very attractive.  What do you look like?’**

Anders breathed deeply and ran his hand down his chest subconsciously as he considered his appearance.  “I’m human, fairly tall, lanky some would say, others might say gangly, but once again, not a terribly sexy word, _gangly_.”  He cleared his throat awkwardly, “So I should probably stop _saying_ it shouldn’t I?  I’m blonde, but not that shiny pretty sort of blonde.  What’s the term, dirty, dishwater?  Maker I’m on a roll aren’t I?”  Anders smiled as he heard a soft answering laugh across the line.  “My eyes are light brown.  All in all I’m pretty plain, ordinary.”

**‘I disagree, you sound very handsome Anders.  How long is your blonde hair?  How are you wearing it tonight?’**

“It’s… long-ish?  Not too long though, maybe shoulder length?  I keep it up, for work, but it usually falls out a bit…”  Anders trailed off, not quite sure how to make ‘I wear it in a sloppy ponytail’ sound sexy.

 **‘Mmmm, the low lighting in the bar catches the gold highlights in your hair as a lock falls out of place.  I want to tuck it back behind your ear, feel how soft it is, let my fingers wander to trail along your jaw…'**   Anders breath hitched as his heartbeat began to speed up. **'Do you have facial hair Anders?’**

“No, well, I shave… but I have a five o’clock shadow, or rather it grows so fast it’s more like two o’clock,” he laughed awkwardly and cleared his throat, “So it’s a bit scratchy.”

 **‘Gangly, dishwater, scratchy, ordinary… you seem determined to find yourself unattractive.’**   Anders could almost imagine he could hear a frown in the other man’s voice.

“I’m sorry, I’m making your job difficult aren’t I?”  He sighed and ran the hand not holding his phone through his currently loose hair.  “I suppose my confidence isn’t up to fighting shape at the moment.  I’ve had… a bit of bad luck in the romance department lately.”

 **‘Then let us see if we cannot change your luck, shall we?** ’

“A- alright.”  Anders’ said, embarrassed at how breathy it came out, but Maker wasn’t that the point?  Wasn’t this supposed to be turning him on?  Because it was, he was surprised to realize; his heart racing to flush his skin and make his cock twitch at the unspoken promises hidden in the other man’s voice.

 **‘I approach you and sit down, and finally give into the urge to brush the hair back from your handsome face, out of your golden brown eyes, nearly the same rich amber color as the beer you have been nursing all night.  I brush against the stubble on your jaw and enjoy the rough texture against my fingertips, it is masculine… arousing.  You will not convince me you are not desirable Anders.’** Anders gulped, his thoughts racing as his brain fought for enough of his blood supply (which was quickly being allocated south of the waistband of his trousers) in order to form a coherent reply.  Not entirely certain what to do with his hands, or rather, still too flustered to start doing what he was _supposed_ to do with his hands just yet, Anders fidgeted with the bottom hem of his tee shirt, his fingers whispering against the heated flesh of his stomach.  **‘My hand falls to caress your forearm, light enough that you could pull away and leave if you wished, a tease, an invitation.  What do you do Anders?’**

“I- ah- I’m surprised, flattered, you’re so handsome- or, you _sound_ \- what do you look like?”  There was an edge of pleading in his voice as he squirmed on the rickety sofa, his skin suddenly feeling far hotter than it had only a few minutes ago. 

**‘Whatever you want me to look like.’**

“No- but- are you a human, elf, dwarf… Qunari?”

**‘I can be any of those things for you Anders.’**

“No.”  Anders eyes flew open with a frustrated huff.  “I mean- I’m picturing you as a human, like me, but maybe you’re not, in which case- I don’t know- it feels odd to make you into something you aren’t.  I don’t _care_ what you are, or what you look like.  I- I just want _you_.” 

There was a long pause on the other end if the line, and Anders worried he had broken some sort of rule.  Perhaps he wasn’t supposed to ask?  Perhaps he had offended him, or killed the mood…  **‘If you do not care, why does it matter what I am?’** His voice was tight, guarded, and Anders found he didn’t like the change.

“I’m sorry, you don’t have to say.  It’s just, you- you’re a _person_ , not just some fantasy for pathetic horny men like me.  You might have a day job, or you might not, which is fine… but you probably have friends, a family, hobbies, interests and opinions, and it- it feels dirty to turn you into some sort of fetish doll for my fantasy.  You’re fine as you are, whatever you are, and I’m sure I’m missing the whole point here… but… well there it is!”  Anders realized he was more or less arguing with a man who was working very hard to get him off and promptly snapped his mouth shut.  He had been told countless times that he really ought to do something about his pesky habit of soapboxing, but he would never have imagined that it would rear its determined head in quite so… delicate a situation.  He held his breath as the other man exhaled slowly, the faint crackling against the speaker deafening in the sudden silence.

 **‘I… am not a human… does that disappoint you?’**   For the first time he sounded unsure.  His beautiful voice somehow both shy and defensive… embarrassed and proud.

“Not at all!  I’ve been with humans and elves, and a dwarf once.  I’ve never dated a Qunari, but if I met one and liked their personality… the way I like _your_ personality, it wouldn’t matter to me.  Please, just tell me the truth.”  Anders finished with a whisper, not certain why he was being so adamant about this, but at the same time unwilling to give up.

A pause stretched out between them until Anders feared it would snap- **‘I… am an elf.  That is the truth.  Other than that, I humbly ask that you respect my privacy and use your imagination, for both of our protection.’** There was a line drawn firmly in that softly uttered statement.

“Of course, I- thank you.”  A stilted little non-committal noise from the man, the _elf_ , was the only answer he received, and Anders suddenly felt like a heel.  Of course it only made sense that if he truly were a ‘hot _local_ single’ as the advert claimed, he wouldn’t want to give away enough information for just any creeper that called him to track him down.  Anders bit his lip and frowned.  “Maker’s Balls, I’ve gone and ruined the mood haven’t I?”

Another long pause answered, but this one felt a bit more productive, as Anders was nearly able to hear the elf collecting his thoughts carefully.  He held his breath.  **‘No Anders, you have ruined nothing.  You are… like no one I have ever spoken with before in my profession.  It is… surprising… though not a bad thing.’**

Anders let out a shuddering breath of relief, a gust of air rushing against the phone’s speaker and popping with static.  “I- I bet you say that to all us Kirkwall lonely hearts.”  He said lamely with an awkward laugh in a feeble attempt to relieve the tension in the conversation.

**‘…I do not.  There is another truth for you.’**

A shiver ran down Anders’ spine at the tone the elf used; soft, contemplative, and almost vulnerable.  “Oh- well… thank you.”  He cleared his throat and made a conscious effort to relax back into the lumpy sofa cushions.  “So… where do we go from here?”

**‘That is entirely up to you.  Where do you want to go from here Anders?’**

Anders coughed nervously as his face heated.  “Ah- preferably somewhere a bit quieter than a crowded bar.” 

**‘Hmmm, I agree.  My hand moves against your arm, squeezing through your coat as I lean forward to whisper in your ear… you smell so good Anders-‘**

“So do you.”  He breathed, his eyes sliding shut as the elf effortlessly guided them both back into the moment, his sensuous voice masterfully weaving a world all around him and sending his pulse racing.

**‘My breath is hot against your ear as I ask if you’d like to get out of here.  We could go to a motel, my car… the dark alley out back…’**

“Fuck- I… the alley.”  His face flushed at the naked urgency in his voice.  Anders’ free hand had somehow found its way to his arm, caressing it in a way the elf was describing, a way he imagined one would to solicit an anonymous tryst in a back alley behind a bar.  Even in his more promiscuous youth he had never dared something so bold.  A strange man he’s never met, could be anyone, anything, an errant husband, a Chantry brother, a _Templar_ , but right now he’s just a lonely man in need of a willing body.  Anders finds himself more than willing.

**‘You are eager… so am I.  I am getting excited just touching your arm, breathing in your scent, feeling the warmth of your skin as my hand slips down to take yours.  I lead you toward the back exit and out into the alley.  No one ever comes back here, we shouldn’t be interrupted… but we could be.  Does that excite you?’**

“ _Yes_.”  He nearly keened, his heart racing at the exhibitionist fantasy unfolding. 

**‘I back you up against the brick wall and slide my hands inside your coat.  Your body feels so hot Anders, I want to touch you everywhere at once.  Where should I touch you Anders?’**

“My, ah-“ Anders’ breath hitched, his hand slipping underneath his kitten tee shirt and running over his heated skin, “My chest.”

**‘My hands slide underneath your scrubs and I run my fingers across your stomach and up to caress your chest.  Do you have chest hair Anders?’**

“Ng- ah- yeah-“ he grunted his affirmative as he thread his fingers through the wiry blond hairs.

**‘Mmm, you feel so good Anders.  I run my fingers through the curls of hair on your chest, feel your heart pounding beneath my palm.  My fingertips find your nipples, tease them… do you like that?’**

Anders gasped as his free hand played at a nipple until it stood at attention, his chest rising and falling faster with each panting breath.  “Yes- fuck- I want- I-“

**‘What do you want Anders?’**

“ _You_.”  Anders ghosted his hand down to run over his flannel covered bulge, his hips bucking into the contact as he kneaded the heel of his hand against his arousal.  “So hard for you already.”

**‘Do you want to touch me?’**

“Yes, _please_.”

**‘Where do you want to touch me Anders?’**

“You- your face, hair, hips- want you closer.  I- I want to kiss you.”  His last request was barely above a whisper, not sure if this is something he should ask for from a stranger in a dark alley, or a faceless man on the other end of a telephone line… but wanting it none-the-less

 **‘ _Yes_ Anders, kiss me-‘**   Anders moaned deep in his throat and arched off the couch, the furniture giving a feeble groan but remaining standing as his frame subconsciously surged toward a man that was not there.  **‘Your hand is in my hair, your other on my hip, pressing my body against you as you bend to claim my lips.’** Anders’ brain nearly melted as a soft moan escaped the elf’s throat.  **‘Ah- your lips feel so good, so perfect pressed against mine, Maker- I can barely breathe.  I want more.  I’m nipping at your bottom lip, my tongue hot and wet running along the seam of your mouth, will you let me taste you Anders?’**

“Ah- yes- want you-“  His fingers wandered lower and lower along his stomach, grazing the trail of hair below his navel and following it to the waistband of his trousers before backing off again.  _Not yet, he’ll get there, he’ll take you there, wait…_

**‘I want you too, so much I can hardly control myself.  My tongue slides into your mouth, against your tongue, Maker you’re so hot, so wet for me.  I’m getting so hard for you Anders.  Can you feel me?  Pressed against you as you hold me close?’**

Anders could only moan his affirmative as he finally let his fingers breach the top of his trousers, the pads of his fingertips teasing at the curled hairs at the base of his hardened member.

 **‘I feel your hard cock pressing against me.  My hand travels down to rub the hot bulge in your trousers.  Your scrubs are so thin Anders, I can feel your shape against my palm, I can trace you with my fingers, Anders- _please_ -‘ **A needy little moan escaped the elf’s lips and Anders nearly spent himself at the sound.

Taking care to not hang up in his blind haste to reach his goal as quickly as possible, Anders placed the phone on his heaving chest, the glass and metal cool against an exposed nipple as he used both hands to shove his trousers down and shimmy enough to free his aching cock.

**‘I push your scrubs down below your hips, wrap my hand around your cock.  Ah- Anders, you feel so good in my hand.  So big, hot- so hard for me.  Where this another time, another place, it is a cock I would worship, spend hours memorizing every perfect inch of you with my tongue, make you come down my throat, but we’ve got to hurry.  We’re outside where anyone could see us.  Can you feel my hand on your big beautiful hard cock?’**

Anders bit his lip to stifle another moan as he wrapped his hand around his heated length and stroked.  “Ah- I feel you… Maker- fuck- so good- you feel so good- want you too- want to touch your cock-“ his thumb flicked up to tease at the slit at the swollen head, his toes curling as white hot pleasure rapidly coiled at the base of his spine.

 **‘Yes, _fuck_ yes- Anders, are you unzipping my trousers, reaching your hands inside?’**   “Yes, shit… so hot- you’re so hard-“  **‘Yes- hard for you… your hands feel so good on me Anders, so perfect.’**   “Faster- please- _fuuuck_ -“  **‘Ah- I bring our cocks together, take them both in my hand-‘** “My hand- with y-yours-“  ‘ **Yes- fuck Anders- your hand fits over mine, perfect, so big and hot, squeezing while we fuck into our hands, our cocks rubbing against each other- faster and faster-‘**   “Ah- shit- _yes_ -“  **‘Ah- yes- so good Anders- I hear a noise nearby- someone could be coming- but we’re too far gone to care aren’t we?’** “Oh- oh fuck- _yes_!”  **‘Let them see us lost to passion- our hands around our aching cocks- fucking up against a wall- _shit_ \- I’m so close Anders-‘**  “Ah- so close- I- I’m gonna-  **‘Yes- _yes_ \- Anders- come for me Anders-‘**

Anders’ hand blurred on his throbbing cock, the elf’s voice wrapped around him like a lover’s embrace just as surely as the body he could nearly _feel_ against him, the hand he could feel against his heart, on his cock, pulling and stroking and fucking and _Maker_ they’re abouttobecaughtbutfuckitfuckmefuckfuck!  Anders’ trembling thighs tensed as he shouted and arched his back, his pleasure mounting exponentially before finally peaking and exploding in a chain reaction that raced along every nerve in his body.  His toes curled as his release jetted from his throbbing member in heated bursts, painting his stomach and heaving chest with the evidence of his pleasure.

Shivering and gasping, Anders milked every last drop from his flushed and spent cock, the pearly beads dribbling thick and hot over his fist as he shuddered through the aftershocks of the earth-shattering orgasm.  “Maker, _fuck_ , I don't think I've ever come so hard.”  He panted somewhat sheepishly as his hips stilled their lazy thrusting into his hand.  “My 'Are you kitten me?' shirt is forever defiled."  The elf's soft dark laughter caressed Anders’ ear as he sank bonelessly into his lumpy threadbare sofa.  "There's even a drop on my _face_!  And there's another one of those embarrassing things I should probably be keeping to myself huh?"  He said with a laugh, though not truly feeling _too_ self-conscious about it.  Anders supposed that telling dirty little tidbits like that to the man who just talked him through jerking himself off into oblivion was to be forgiven, if not expected.

**‘On the contrary.  I am pleased you enjoyed yourself Anders.’**

"Did you?"

**‘Hm?’**

"Enjoy yourself?"  He made a halfhearted and ultimately futile attempt to straighten his wrinkled and soiled shirt as his breathing slowed, his seed cooling in the evening air and sending a chill through his sated frame.  "I mean, did you- did you come too?" A soft huff of breath answered him, almost a laugh.  "What?  Is that weird, or  _creepy_?  I'm being creepy aren't I?"

**‘Not at all, I simply am not often asked.  I- I enjoyed myself very much Anders.  Thank you for your consideration.’**

“Well good, I mean, I’m glad.  You deserve it.  You were- Maker that was incredible, and that bit at the end, with someone coming-  _fuck_!  Who was it?  Did they catch us?!”

 **‘What?’**   Anders could practically hear the incredulous quirk of the other man’s brow.

“Who was coming?  The bartender?  The Guard?”  His lip curled in distaste, “A blighted Templar?  I mean, I’m not crazy, of course I  _know_  it was a fantasy, but still… I can’t help but be curious now.” 

A distinctly bewildered silence was the only answer he received.

“So… there’s still time to change your mind about me not being an idio-“

**‘-a cat.’**

Anders blinked, certain he hadn’t heard that right.  “Wha- did you say a cat?”

 **‘…it _was_ an alley after all.’**   There was a distinct teasing lilt to the elf’s velvet voice.

His cheeks heated as he scrubbed a hand over his face, “Sweet Maker, he was  _watching_ , wasn’t he?”

 **‘Perhaps you are more “into” the notion than you think.’**   Anders could definitely _hear_  the elf’s Maker damned smirk.

An odd and decidedly unsexy mixture of a laugh and a groan escaped his lips, but somehow it wasn’t as embarrassing as before.  “I’ll never be able to face Pounce again.”

**‘Terribly sorry.’**

Anders mock glared at the phone.  “No you  _aren’t_.”

The elf’s warm chuckle trickled through the speaker and into Anders’ ear, flowing warm and rich like dark chocolate and pooling to settle somewhere low in his belly.   **‘Hmmm… no.’**

“I want to see you again.”  Anders blurted unceremoniously.  “Well, you know,  _hear_  you again.  Talk.  On the phone… to you.”

 **‘You… have the number.’**   It was _almost_ a question.

“Yes but, what if I don’t get you, but some other ‘hot young Kirkwall single just waiting to talk to me!’?  I- I’d like to talk to _you_  again.”

 **‘This was your first time calling.  There may be someone else you prefer even more…’** The hesitance in the elf’s voice was palpable, and Anders felt like an arse.

“Shit, I’m sorry.  I’m sure you have half of Kirkwall fondling themselves and creepily panting in your ear all night and asking after you.  I- I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-“

 **‘No, no that is not- I…’**   Anders could faintly hear the other man take a deep breath over the rapid pounding of his heart.   **‘** **…my extension is 713.  I do not give that out to everyone, so please do not share it.  I would… I should like to speak to you again Anders.’**

“Really?  I mean- thank you!  I’ll call, I’ll um- I’ll definitely call again.”  Anders was already doing mental calculations on what expenses he could go without in order to afford his next call, when his eyes widened in horror.  “Oh Andraste’s Tits, how much over the time did we go?!”

The elf faintly cleared his throat.   **‘** **You… still have half a minute left.’**

Anders groaned and covered his face.  “What?!  With all the blabbering I did, and I still- well shit, that’s embarrassing.”

Maker the things this elf’s laugh did to him.   **‘** **Goodnight Anders.  I look forward to hearing from you again.’**

“Oh, yes, right!  You will!  I- um… goodnight.”  Anders breathed, clutching the phone tightly long after the dial tone had sounded.

 

* * *

 

Fenris sighed heavily and pressed the button on the side of his headset to end the call.  He reached for the dial pad, his fingers lingering on the sign out button before finally pressing it and cradling the headset to charge for the night.  His gaze then drifted down to glare at the undeniable bulge in his trousers.  “Venhedis.”  He cursed softly and padded to the restroom, shedding his clothing as he went.  It was early yet to be signing out, but his status as a contract worker allowed him the flexibility to choose his own hours, and after that last call…

The elf shivered as he reached to turn on the tap.  He absently palmed his half hard member as the water began to flow, and considered the decision he faced.  Should he turn the tap on cold and tamp down his…  _reaction_  to that last client, or turn it to hot and finish what the man’s fantasy had started? 

He frowned and turned the tap on full cold.

The elf hissed as the frigid water hit him, goosebumps rising rapidly as the water flowed over his olive skin and played at the white tattoos adorning his entire body.   _Did you?  Enjoy yourself?_ Fenris groaned and leaned back against the cool tile, his burgeoning erection wilting in the chilled cascade of water.  The answer he had given Anders- the  _client_ … it hadn’t been exactly true, but it hadn’t exactly been a lie either.  _I_ _’m glad… you deserve it._

It was rare that Fenris became legitimately aroused by his work.  After all, if he spent himself on every call he received in a night, not only would that constitute some sort of supernatural stamina that he sadly did not possess, but he imagined he would be rather chafed at the end of the ordeal.  That was not to say the work was not enjoyable.  There was a certain pleasure to be had in so freely embracing and exploring his sexuality, as well as exercising his creativity, two things he had never been allowed the luxury to experiment with during his time in Tevinter.  There was a feeling of excitement and accomplishment when he guided someone to their release, the sense of being important, needed in a way that few could articulate in the harsh light of day.  Perhaps best of all was the sense of freedom in the anonymity his job provided, a safety in these faceless voices that moaned and panted in his ear each night only to disappear like the mist rising off Hightown’s ancient cobblestone streets as the sun rose, leaving him free and unencumbered to live his life on his own terms.  Even if he were still figuring out what those terms were, they were _his_ to set now, and no one else’s.  It was a wonderful feeling that Fenris wasn’t certain he would ever get used to. 

Fenris wrapped a towel around his middle and set about preparing for bed, trying determinedly to not think about Anders- the  _client_  and his endearingly awkward manner.  Such an unusual man.  When he had insisted on knowing his race, Fenris had half feared the man would start making lewd remarks about his relative lack of body hair, his ‘delicate’ elven frame, or Maker forbid his ‘sexy knife ears’.  It was always the same, whether the client wished to believe he was a human, dwarf or Qunari, their sorted fantasies about thick dwarven cocks and the varied uses for a Qunari’s horns would inevitably make an appearance.  He had heard it all before, had heard _worse_ before, and it didn’t faze him so much at this point as it did bore him. 

What he had never heard was the way Anders had ignored all that.  He didn’t seem to care a wit for the admittedly slight differences in their respective anatomies that were so often fetishized by horny men dreaming of something exotic.  As with all the other bluntly honest truths the man had freely uttered, he had apparently been sincere in his desire to simply know what kind of person he was holding in his arms in order to picture it more clearly when he closed his eyes.  It was… remarkably refreshing.  Anders had avoided talk of his ears and had instead wanted to touch his _face_ , his hair… kiss him.  How quant, to want a kiss.  It was not unheard of, but kissing was certainly an action he found himself describing far less often than the stroking, sucking or fucking his clients typically requested.  Even in that regard Anders had been different.  _‘…_ _want you too… want to touch your cock_ _… my hand, with yours…_ _’_ Anders had asked after Fenris’ own pleasure, had seemed to _care_. 

He would call again.  Fenris had given out his extension.   _Why?_   There were very few people that he allowed to contact him specifically, the elf being a zealous guard of his privacy.  It was only the clients that for whatever reason could or would not share such an experience with anyone else, clients he had built a unique rapport with, that earned the privilege of knowing his extension.  There was the shy Chantry brother with the Starkhaven brogue that couldn’t bring himself to give a name and was so filled with guilt and frustration that he sometimes needed nearly an hour of convincing that it was alright to simply touch himself; a Templar struggling with his sexuality who also refused to give a name and wanted to be commanded by a man to pleasure himself, perhaps in an attempt to work through his confusion; Isabela of course, the friend who had told him about this job in the first place and typically only called to shoot the shit and ‘give him a break from all the wanking’, and if she wanted to pay for the privilege to bitch about her day to him, Fenris saw no reason to deny her.  And now… there was Anders.

He wasn’t quite sure what had possessed him to single this man out as special.  His situation was fairly typical as far as clients went.  Lonely single man, too busy with work or too socially awkward (in Anders’ case Fenris had to wonder if he didn’t have both of those factors working against him) to find himself a partner, and seemingly cursed with an unfortunate penchant for rambling speech and terrible taste in clothing.  Fenris had been as surprised as anyone when he legitimately found himself charmed by the man’s selfless inquiries about his comfort and pleasure in-between glimpses of his strange feline obsession. 

Anders would call again, and Fenris had to admit that deep down, some fool part of him was very much looking forward to it.


	2. Playing Doctor

Payday had never seemed further away.  It had taken every ounce of self-restraint Anders possessed not to say to the Void with silly things like the power bill so he could call the velvet voiced elf again.  The upside of being a mage (aside from the constant prejudice, forced registration and ever present glass ceiling of course) was that he could always summon up a flame for warmth or to heat a blighted tin of soup if need be.  The only thing that had stayed his hand from complete financial irresponsibility was the fact that he wouldn’t be able to charge his phone if the power got shut off.  Not that his hand had been completely… _stayed_ these past several nights.  He hadn’t masturbated so often and with such conviction since he was a blighted teenager, and frankly Anders was rather appalled with himself.  Not appalled enough to  _stop_  mind you, but that was hardly the point.

It was just- Maker the man’s  _voice_.  Anders heard it when he tried to fall asleep, in his dreams, when he woke, on the bus, at work, at the blighted  _laundromat_ … which had been a real picnic, shoving his previously adorable and now semen splattered kitty pajamas in the washing machine and praying to Andraste the little old lady folding her towels beside him failed to notice the scents of sex and shame wafting off him in waves.  The worst by far was the scene of the crime, that lumpy Maker forsaken sofa.  Just the faintest creak of the aging wood frame or the fleeting poke of a spring sent his cock twitching.  He hadn’t dared return to the bar just yet.

Anders knew he was being ridiculous.  He was a grown man for Maker’s sake!  He’d had plenty of sex before, what difference did it make if it were over the bloody phone?  That should make it _less_ exciting!  Perhaps it was because it was something new, thrilling… his dirty little secret.  He could only imagine the ridicule he would face, were his friends to learn that the upstanding Dr. Anderson had called a phone sex hotline to get his jollies, and Justice would be absolutely scandalized.  They would think him pathetic, a deviant, a _pervert_ , and some distant part of him knew that the thought should have upset him rather than excited him, but Anders had always been a sucker for doing things that he knew he’d probably be better off not doing. 

The bathroom door clicked shut with a dreadful sort of finality, Pounce’s mournful yowl ringing out in accusation as Anders grabbed his phone and settled on the sofa.  Before he could talk himself out of it, his fingers flew across the keys.  Anders huffed and entered his card number at the first opportunity.  As soon as Miss Phone-Sex-Bot started droning on again with ‘yeeessss’s and ‘baby’s, Anders held his breath and punched in the extension.  7… 1… 3…

There was a long pause in which Anders’ lip found its way between his teeth to be worried at anxiously.   _Shit, what if he’s on another call, what if he’s busy tonight, what if he never even works this night of the week?!  Shit why didn’t I ask when would be a good ti-_

**‘Hello?’**

Anders winced at the crackling produced by his massive sigh of relief at hearing the elf’s rich baritone rumble over the line.  _At least I didn’t drop the bloody phone this time… but the night is young.  Andraste’s Arse why aren’t you SAYING anything?!_   “Hi!  I mean- ah- hello?  It’s Anders.  I mean, I’m not saying you’d remember me or anything-"

 **‘I remember you Anders.  I was beginning to think you had changed your mind. _’_**   If Anders had to guess, which his racing heart insisted that he very much _did_ , the elf sounded a bit surprised to hear him, but pleased.

“Changed my mind, are you  _kitten_  me?”  Anders blanched in horror as the disastrous attempt at flirtatious banter bypassed the ‘stupid shit you should NEVER say’ filter in his brain and spewed out into the ether.

You could hear a pin drop as Anders waited for the inevitable dial tone.  He nearly swooned with joy when a bark of laughter sounded out instead.   **‘** **Ha!  I cannot believe you actually just said that!’** The other man was laughing in earnest now, the sound completely different than the warm little chuckles Anders had so far earned, more gravel and less grace… _honest_.  Anders _loved_ it.   **‘** **That was _terrible!_ ’**

Anders joined in laughing as he ran a faintly trembling hand through his hair.  “I  _know_!   I swear it sounded much more charming in my head!”

 **‘I do not doubt it.  I don’t suppose you have a new cat shirt for this evening?’**   The elf asked as his laughter settled, his smile audible.

“I  _do_  in fact.  This one says ‘Meows it goin’?’, and features a kitten… meowing.”  Anders grinned and lowered his voice to a more sultry tone.  “I wore it for  _you_.”

**‘Sweet Maker how you turn me on Anders.’**

Anders smiled at the dry humor dripping off every word of the elf’s deadpanned statement.  “Is it strange to say I missed you?  Because I did… miss you I mean.”    

**‘I missed you as well.’**

“Oh, it’s ok, you don’t have to say that.  It’s sweet of you though, thank you, but I know you can’t possibly miss all of the people who call you-”

**‘I did not say I missed _all_ of them.  You are… rather difficult to forget.’**

He felt his face flush at the elf’s words.  “Oh- I- well… thank you.  Unless you mean difficult to forget even though you wish you _could_ , like an irritating song stuck in your head or something.”

Anders wondered if that dark little chuckle would ever cease making his heart flutter.  **‘It was a compliment.’**

“Ah, well, thank you then.”

**‘So, are you and your ‘Meows it going?’ shirt on the sofa again?’**

“Haha, yes.  A spring is poking me in the back a bit, really sets the mood.  Speaking of where I am, where are  _you_?  Do you take your calls in bed?”

**‘Do you want me to be in bed?’**

“Wait... you’re in an office aren’t you?!  Do you have to come to work in a suit and tie to some normal boring looking office building and sit in a cubical while your coworkers pant and moan around you?”

**‘No, though I can imagine casual Fridays would take on new meaning were that the case.  Thankfully I can work from home.’**

He laughed at the absurd mental image of casual Fridays at the imagined Hard Up in Hightown office.  “That’s good.  Ties never make me feel very sexy anyway, too constricting.  Though that begs the question, what  _do_  you wear while you work?   _Really_?  I know you’re probably supposed to tell me that you’re wearing some sort of lacey get-up, or studded leather, or just sitting there in the buff all oiled up for me and freezing your bollicks off, but really, if it were  _me_ , I think I’d be in my PJ’s.”

**‘You… are not far off.  As you know, it is my job to be whatever you want me to be, and since you only seem to desire that I be _honest_ , I will tell you that I am wearing a black long sleeved cotton v-neck and pajama trousers.’**

Anders’ lips curled into a pleased grin at the elf’s answer.  “Hmmm, but what kind of pajama trousers, that’s the real question?  You seem like a practical sort, and-“ his cheeks heated as he swallowed thickly, “-masculine, so probably not silk or satin.  Flannel?”

 **‘Do I?’**   His voice sounded warm and distinctly amused by Anders’ analysis.  **‘You are correct about the material.  They are blue plaid weave to be exact.’**

“Mine are plaid weave too!  So you’re in your pajamas… are you in bed?”

**‘…I could be.’**

“But you’re not, otherwise you’d just tell me.”  Anders absently scratched his chin, the stubble against his fingertips faintly crackling audibly through the line.  “And since you didn’t volunteer the information, I take it you’re somewhere less than sexy?”

**‘You are a clever one.  If you must know, I am sitting at my kitchen table.’**

Anders smirked wryly.  “Well at least it’s not the privy.  Maker’s Balls, you aren’t doing your taxes or something are you?!”

 **‘My taxes?’**   He gave an incredulous little bark of laughter that had Anders’ heart skipping a beat.  **‘Anders… you realize you are paying for this conversation?’**

“Oh shit!  Right, well… ah- I’m not really sure how to begin.”

 **‘That much is evident.’**   The teasing smirk in the elf’s voice negated any embarrassment such a statement might have otherwise stirred in Anders. **‘I suggest that unless you’d like to envision us tearing off our plaid weave pajamas and fucking on my kitchen table, then we may want to change the subject.’**

Anders couldn’t help but grin at that particular mental image.  “I don’t know, I wouldn’t be opposed to that course of action.”

 **‘Very well…’**   A deep breath crackled over the line before the elf spoke dryly, **‘I sweep my meticulously organized tax forms off the table in a fit of passion…’**

Anders laughed brightly as a curious burst of warmth began blossoming in his chest.  “I love a man with a sense of humor.  If you aren’t careful, I might just fall for you.”

There was a sharp intake of breath that had Anders biting his lip anxiously.  After another beat, the other man’s rich voice rumbled through the speaker once more.   **‘What do you think about when you touch yourself Anders?’**

Anders let out a breath, half relieved sigh and half frustrated huff.  It only made sense that the elf would try to do what he was being paid for, but the stark reminder of the nature of their relationship, or rather lack thereof… it stung a bit.  “Wow, that’s one way to deflect an awkward comment.  Good show.”  He snarked back dryly, rather proud of himself that it held only a hint of bitterness.

**‘...this is one of the few situations in which such a question serves to put the conversation back on track, rather than deflect it.’**

He couldn’t keep the grin from curling back onto his lips, willing to concede the point to the elf.  He was being silly and he knew it.  This was supposed to be about pleasure, release, _sex_ , and nothing more.  “True.  So… when I touch myself… the usual I suppose?”

**‘You may need to be more specific.  There is no such thing as a ‘usual’ or ‘unusual’ fantasy when it comes to sex.  I have heard it all, you need not be embarrassed.’**

“I’m not particularly embarrassed, it’s just- they’re rather dull to be honest.  I think about people I’ve seen that I find attractive, maybe watch a video or two online if I’m awake enough to bother after I get home from work, and now, lately…”

**‘Lately?’**

“I’ve been closing my eyes and- and remembering your voice.  I- I think about the things you said last time, and I imagine… things.”

**‘What sorts of things do you imagine about me?’**

“Well, last night… Maker this is _terrible_ … I was working graveyard at the clinic, no patients for hours, and I- I popped off into an empty exam room during my break.  I’d been thinking about you all day, thinking about how I was going to call you the next night, I couldn’t take it anymore.”  Without conscious thought, Anders’ hand had wandered down to the rapidly heating flesh between his legs, rubbing the soft flannel against the sensitive organ

**‘Your clinic, another place where we could be easily found out.  Do you have an exhibitionist streak Anders?’**

Anders laughed as he absently shifted the material covering his slowly filling member, not truly starting to pleasure himself in earnest yet, but enjoying the lazy sparks of desire the action sent tingling up his spine.  “Probably.  I’d never really thought about it that way, but even back in the CoM dorms there wasn’t much in the way of privacy.  I guess I’ve always found the thought of someone catching me in the act exciting.”

 **‘As do I.  It can be thrilling, doing something you know you should not.’**   Anders hummed his agreement as his hand traveled to ride up the hem of his shirt to stroke the warm skin he found beneath.  **‘Do you masturbate at work often Anders?’**

It simply wasn’t fair how the man could make such a clinical term sound so filthy.  “ _No!_  I- hang on-“ Anders chuckled softly as he held the phone in one hand and used the other to awkwardly shift his pajamas off his hips, his waking erection bobbing free of its flannel confines, “I don’t know why I bother even wearing trousers when I call you.  I used to be a fine upstanding member of society, only wanking in the privacy of my own home like a normal person… but Maker… your _voice_ …”  A breathy moan escaped Anders’ lips as his fingers skimmed the soft flesh of his inner thighs and the wiry hairs surrounding his flushed arousal, teasing everywhere but where he ached the most to be touched, “What it does to me… I- I can’t help myself.  I was half hard all shift, just remembering the things you said to me…”

A low growl of arousal, almost a purr, rumbled through the phone.  **‘Mmmmm, keep going Anders, and you will not be the only one getting off at work.’**

“Ah- fuck, are you as hard as I am?  I’m already so hard for you, and we haven’t even _done_ anything yet.  That’s what your voice- what _you_ do to me.”  Anders murmured breathlessly as he teasingly trailed a finger over the heated flesh between his legs.

**‘The affect you have on me is much the same.  It is turning me on just thinking about you touching yourself at work, wanting it so bad you would take the risk of being found out.  Tell me how you touched yourself _Doctor_.’**

Anders bit his lip in a futile attempt to stop the moan that escaped at the way the elf sensually breathed his professional title.  “Ah- shit- as soon as I decided to go through with it, fuck- I got so hard.  My hands were shaking when I pulled my scrubs down and started stroking my cock.”  He finally gave into his body’s demand and wrapped his hand around his throbbing arousal.  “I closed my eyes and I imagined- ah- I imagined that you came in while I was jerking off… imagined what you’d do when you caught me with my trousers round my ankles.” 

 **‘What did I do in your fantasy Anders?  When I saw the picture you made as I unknowingly stepped through the door… your golden hair falling loose over your furrowed brow, your tall lean frame bent slightly as you worked your swollen prick?  Your honey colored eyes widening as you realized you had an audience, your cheeks blushing, your hips still bucking into your hand because it felt too good to stop, fuck-‘**  The elf let out a shuddering breath that tapered into a low moan.   **‘What do I do Anders?  Do I climb up on the exam table and let you give me a thorough exam?  Do I bend you over and inject you with my big hard cock?  Do I fall to my knees and suck you off, hungry for a hot dose of your cum?’**

Distantly Anders knew he should have found the stereotypical medical innuendo more humorous than arousing, but with his hand fisting his aching prick like it was going out of style, he was in a much more receptive position to find it sexy as fuck.  “Ah- I- want you to- to suck my cock- please“ he keened and arched into his hand as shivers of pleasure shook his frame.

**‘With pleasure Doctor.  I move forward, and for a moment you manage to stop fucking your hand long enough and try to cover up, but your embarrassment only turns you on more doesn’t it?’**

“Yes- _fuck_ -“  He choked off a moan as he teased the head of his cock with quick nimble strokes of his fingertips before smoothing his palm more slowly down his shaft.

**‘You think I will be offended, appalled at your deviant behavior, but _fuck_ \- I cannot get on my knees fast enough.  I pull your hands away, replacing them with my own.  My hands are shaking, I want your cock so bad Anders.  I stroke your length before taking you into my mouth, inch by inch, mmmgh-‘**

Anders nearly came undone as a wet sort of suckling noise followed the elf’s words.  He forced himself to breathe as he pulled on the Fade and summoned oil to grease his palm, the warm slick sensation mimicking the inside of the elf’s heated mouth.

 **‘Ah- you taste so good Anders- fuck.  I pull away and lick your hot cock from base to tip, Maker you’re so big- so good.  My lips wrap around your head and I tease your slit with my tongue.’**   A string of expletives flowed from Anders’ lips as he rubbed his slit with his oil slicked thumb, his thighs shaking as more wet slurping noises reached his ears through the phone’s speaker.  **‘You like that Doctor?  I like it.  Fuck- you make me so hard- the sounds you make.  Ah- Anders-‘**

“Ah- yes- I want to… your hair…”

**‘You want to pull my hair Anders?’**

“No- touch it- hold it… hold you…”

 **‘I can feel your fingers in my hair, holding me, guiding me to fuck you with my mouth just how you like it**. **’**  

“F- feels so good.  Please- touch yourself- want you to come with me-“

The elf moaned around Anders’ cock, or whatever he had in his mouth that enabled him to make those sinful suckling noises, the sounds easily bypassing what Anders’ lust addled brain knew to be reality and going straight to his groin.  **‘Ah- yes, my hands fumble to free my rock hard cock and wrap around it.  A-Anders, I’m fucking one hand while the other reaches around to grab your bare arse and hold you closer while you fuck my mouth.’**   More wet slurping noises had Anders’ hand speeding up against his straining member.  **‘Your cock is so big, so hot fucking down my throat.  You taste so good, _fuck_ \- want more.  Want you to come down my throat, want to milk your cock dry.  Ah- give me my medicine Doctor-‘**

The sounds coming from the phone’s speaker were absolutely obscene, wet suction and gasping breaths, the elf swallowing and moaning around Anders’ hard cock- His climax roared through him as he spent himself with a hoarse shout, his hot seed spilling onto his stomach and kitten tee shirt indiscriminately.  Anders sluggishly blinked his eyes open as he floated back down to earth, and found himself stupidly disappointed to find himself lying on his Maker forsaken sofa in his tiny flat… alone.  “’Give me my medicine’, _fuck_ , and you make fun of my kitten puns.”  He panted, a lazy smile lifting his lips and coloring his voice, negating any bite the comment may have had.

 **‘You seem to enjoy them so, and I aim to please.’** The bastard sounded smug, not that Anders could really blame him.  After that, the man deserved to pat himself on the back.

“Well you certainly succeeded.”  Anders’ soft chuckles tapered off into a yawn as he stretched and melted into the lumpy couch cushions in a contented puddle.  He grinned slyly and decided there was no harm in pushing his luck a little farther.  “The only thing that would please me more is if I had a name to call out when I came.  ‘Oh sexy disembodied voice’ just doesn’t roll off the tongue.”

**‘Perhaps your tongue just needs more practice?’**

Anders smirked and rolled his eyes, hardly surprised he’d been denied once again, though the disappointment was soothed by the elf’s dry wit as usual.  “Oooo ouch!  Fair enough Mr. Playing Hard to Get, can I at least know the color of the hair I had between my fingers while you sucked me off?” 

A dark chuckle colored with fondness answered him.  **‘I hope to talk to you again soon Anders.’**

“W- wait!”  Anders gasped and propped himself up on his elbows, as though he were about to jump off the couch to catch him.  “That’s it?”

 

* * *

 

Fenris wiped his saliva slicked fingers on his trousers as the call wound down and he waited for Anders’ to say his goodnights and hang up.  He knew of others in his profession that kept a dildo on hand, or even a banana or carrot in a pinch, for occasions that required… sound effects.  However, Fenris could never manage it without imagining the picture he made sitting at his kitchen table in his pajamas while sucking on a banana and mumbling into the phone, and scoffing at its sheer ridiculousness.  Anders certainly hadn’t seemed to mind that Fenris had used nothing but his fingers as a stand in for his cock, if his shouted climax was any indication-

**‘W- wait!  That’s it?’**

Fenris frowned, his dark brows furrowed in confusion.  “F-forgive me, I was certain you had-“

**‘No!  I mean yes!  Fuck yes, I came all over myself!  What I mean is… well… did you?  Come I mean?’**

A bemused grin twitched onto the elf’s lips as he looked down dispassionately at his throbbing erection still trapped within its blue flannel plaid weave prison, completely untouched.  “I am very much satisfied Anders.”  Not _completely_ satisfied, but not a lie.

 **‘Good… well… I...’**   There was hesitance in the human’s voice.  Fenris’ frown returned.

“Is something wrong?”

**‘No, it’s just- it’s seems… I don’t know… rude?  Grabbing your head and shoving my prick down your throat without so much as a how do you do?’**

“…how do you do Anders?”  He simply couldn’t help himself.

The man’s laughter really was quite nice, Fenris had to admit.  **‘Smartass!  Can I- could I kiss you at least?  Would you… like that?’**

Fenris smiled fondly at the man’s nervous request, his voice taking on a tone that was as awkward as it was seductive as Anders clearly tried to employ the elf’s own techniques on him.  _Would I like that?_   “Yes Anders, I would like that.”

 **‘Ok… good.  I- um- I touch your face- wait!  I mean, you stand up first, obviously, and I probably should put my dick away first.  So I… do that.’**   Anders groaned on the other end of the line and Fenris bit his cheek to keep from laughing at his disastrous attempt at seduction.  **‘I’m really terrible at this aren’t I?  You’d think I’d have some idea how it should go after listening to you being so bloody fantastic!  I’m sorry, should I… stop?  Am I keeping you?’**

Dark eyebrows furrowed as he considered the man on the other end of the line with growing puzzlement.  _Keeping me?  You are only costing yourself more coin with your baffling desire to awkwardly describe kissing me._   Fenris thought it, and nearly said it, but something in him was reluctant to remind the other man of the reality of their situation, his surprising desire to receive Anders’ awkwardly described kiss equally as baffling.  “You are not keeping me Anders, nor are you terrible in any way.  I am standing before you, looking up into your honey colored eyes… what do you do next?”

 **‘I- I touch your face, c-caress your cheeks, slide my fingers into your hair.  How long is your hair?  Can I ask that? _’_**   It sounded like he was chewing on his lip.

Fenris debated being evasive once again.  He knew Anders would accept it, but he found the increasing disappointment in his voice at being denied more unsettling than the thought of giving him a glimpse of who he was.  It would hurt nothing for Anders to know the length of his hair.  “It is not as long as yours, but long enough that it often falls across my eyes.”

The other man let out a relieved breath, and Fenris could hear his smile as he continued.  **‘In that case, I brush it out of your eyes, tuck it behind your ear.  Actually, could I ask you a question… about your ears?’**

 _Here it comes._   Fenris thought with mild irritation, his features settling into a grimace as he awaited the inevitable questions.  ‘Can I lick your ears?’, ‘What does it feel like if I stroke them, suck on them?’, ‘Are they as sensitive as your elven cock?’, and his personal favorite for its shear idiocy, ‘Can you fuck me with your long knife ears?’  “You may _ask_.”  _I may hang up._

 **‘I’m sure you hear all sorts of stuff about sexy elf ears, which I always thought was weird, because I can’t imagine anyone coming up to me and saying ‘Gee Anders, your round human ears sure are sexy.’  I mean, they’re just ears, you know?  Not that yours _aren’t_ sexy, it’s just- Maker let me start over!’**   Fenris quirked an eyebrow, undeniably curious despite himself.  **‘Anyway, I used to date an elven guy, and he was kind of shy, and sometimes, when I’d say things… or do certain things… sometimes the tips of his ears would blush.  Do- do yours do that too?’**

Fenris nearly laughed at the almost childlike innocence of the shyly murmured question.  _Maker, this man._   As though they knew they were being talked about, his ears began to heat at the tips and flush a dark pink against his olive skin.  “They do… on occasion.”

 **‘So cute.’**   Anders breathed almost to himself.  Fenris’ eyebrows rose as the other man promptly began sputtering.  **‘Shit, I didn’t mean- that sounded awfully patronizing didn’t it?  It’s just, he was my boyfriend, so of course I thought he was cute!  I’m sure he thought plenty of human stuff I did was cute, and plenty of Anders stuff I did… hopefully.  And, well, I think you’re cute, or sexy- amazing!  Fuuuuck!’**   The man groaned miserably, his next words sounding as though they were mumbled through his hand.  **‘You can slap me whenever you want, or hang up, I wouldn’t blame you.’**

Fenris smiled and tucked a lock of stark white hair behind his flushed ear as the other man had described.  “You are making them blush now Anders.  Do not stop.”

A nervous laugh bubbled up from the flustered human.  **‘R- really?!  Could it be I’ve been lucky enough to find the one man in Kirkwall that finds my awkward nervous blathering charming?’**

The elf’s lips twitched into a teasing smirk.  “It is, admittedly, a very specific kink.  So I suppose I should say I am lucky to have found _you_.”

A breathy little moan escaped Anders lips.  **‘Oh fuck it I just kiss you!**   **My hands are in your hair, its so soft- beautiful.  You’re beautiful, we’re beautiful… together.  I brush my lips against yours, light and teasing, before I tilt my head and fit our lips together firmly.  Well, not firm as in forceful, but c-confident, I mean- Maker I’m rubbish at this…’**

The blush spread from Fenris’ ears to stain his cheeks as well as he envisioned the taller man kissing him as he described.  “Not at all Anders.  A kiss can be difficult to convey in words, but you are doing very well.  I understand your meaning, your lips are pressed against mine, not demanding, but wanting… asking.  I answer you in kind.  I reach up to grip the back of your neck, my thumb plays at the hair coming out of your ponytail as I lean up to meet you, my lips moving against yours as we hold each other close.”

 **‘I smile into our kiss, so happy you understand… so happy to be with you.  I- I want so badly to sweep you off your feet.  Despite how bloody awful I might be at talking about it, I know my way around a good kiss, I assure you.’**   His voice had deepened slightly, steadied and strengthened by a new found confidence.

“I believe you.”  Fenris breathed, surprised to find that he did.  His hand slipped behind his head to thread his fingers through his hair seemingly of its own volition, hooded emerald eyes sliding shut.

**‘Mmmm, I want to taste you.  I’m teasing at your bottom lip with my tongue.  Can you- can you feel me?’**

“ _Yes_.”  The elf whispered, actually _meaning_ it as he clenched the fist currently buried in his hair, licking his lips as his hips rocked gently against the straining fabric of his trousers.  “I open my mouth, welcome your tongue inside, feel it against mine- it’s so hot Anders.  Mmmm, can you taste yourself on me?”

 **‘Yes, it’s so good.  You taste so good, and tasting myself, knowing what you just did for me, fuck- I never want to stop kissing you.’** Despite the language getting more intense, Anders’ voice remained calm and soothing, sweet and lovely, as he breathlessly described the heated embrace.  **‘When we finally pull away to breathe, I don’t want to let you go.  I kiss your lips again and again, softly, to show you how much I appreciate you- show you… how wonderful you are.  I- thank you.  Thank you.’**   He trailed off softly, his voice trembling slightly.

Fenris took a shuddering breath, his heart pounding and cock aching from Anders’ passionate and heartfelt description, just as surely as if the man had actually been there kissing him.  “I- thank _you_ Anders.”  He murmured, for once at a loss for words.

 **‘I- I should… get back to ‘work’… I guess, ha.  Thank you… again.  And… goodnight. _’_**   His voice was soft, sleepy and content, and Fenris found himself longing to curl up beside him and share in the peace he seemed to have found.

“Goodnight Anders.”

As soon as the headset touched the cradle, Fenris had punched the ‘Busy’ button on the phone and fairly tore his flannel pajama trousers off.  His hand wrapped deftly around his cock and stroked hard and fast, racing toward his eminent release.  Anders’ voice still rang in his ears, his halting but utterly sincere descriptions of his affection, the sheepish grins he could almost _see_ on his handsome face, Maker his _laugh_ \- “A- Anders!”  Fenris shouted, bare toes curling and scrabbling on the cool hardwood floor as he spent his seed in hot spurts across his shirt and lap. 

Fenris slumped back in his chair and scoffed at himself in disgust.  _No getting off with clients!  What part of that don’t you understand?!_   The elf mentally berated himself as he drug his tingling and sated body off the chair to get a wash cloth and new change of clothes.  It was early yet and he was still likely to get several more calls tonight, he couldn’t afford to be… distracted.  That was the only reason he had broken his self-imposed rule… or so he tried to tell himself. 

When he had first started this job, he had dabbled in pleasuring himself along with the person on the other end of the line, the thrill of finally being able to do what he wanted with his own body, when and where he wanted… well… Fenris had _wanted_.  In the end however, not only had it proven to be exhausting, but the novelty had quickly worn off.  These were not his fantasies after all, and simply knowing that he had a _choice_ as to whether or not to partake was enough to satisfy him and bring him pleasure, even if it were a different sort than his clients were experiencing.  He was more than capable of concocting and envisioning his own fantasies, and Fenris felt it was best not to mix business with pleasure… well, at least not his own pleasure at any rate.

But this man, Anders.  There was just something about him, about his tastes, desires and fantasies; Anders awakened something in Fenris.  Not only did he legitimately share Anders’ fondness for playing at the notion of someone catching them fucking, but there was something so earnest and sincere about him that Fenris had never experienced before, whether it be at work or in his private life.  Never, _never_ before had a client seen it as important enough, so much so that they wanted to spend the coin describing it, to simply kiss him in thanks.  As much as he would like to deny it, something about the man’s kindness and generosity touched his heart.

Fenris frowned and settled down at the table once more, his soiled clothing now in the wash and a steaming cup of coffee in front of him.  His line of work required late hours and copious amounts of talking, so a hot caffeinated beverage was always a must.  He took a careful sip and hissed as the bitter liquid washed over his tongue, still a bit too hot but undeniably satisfying.  _I am very much satisfied Anders._   Fenris scoffed and pushed the ‘Busy’ button once more, making him available for calls.  It was best not to dwell on his growing feelings for Anders.  Nothing would ever come of it, nothing _could_ ever come of it.  It was just a job.  The phone rang as if on cue, and Fenris took a calming breath before pushing the button on the side of his headset.  “Hello?”


	3. Mage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait! I had quite a bit of trouble with this chapter :/ Ahead you will find blatantly cobbled together Qunlat, a glimpse at the modern mage's plight, and short but fierce angst showers. Next chapter should be cloudy with a 100% chance of fluff. Now a couple notes:
> 
> Steam Age = Thedas' "Victorian era", complete with industrialism, steam engines (hence the name), and top hats!
> 
> For whatever reason, for me human!Justice looks like Idris Elba. Feel free to share my headcanon, but it is not required ;)
> 
> Oh, and no offence to anyone who's into extreme size kink ;)

Anders laughed and twirled Wynne around the clinic’s small lobby.  A lock of the woman’s graying hair slipped from the loose bun she wore as the mage drew her back in. 

“What’s got you in such a good mood Anders?”  The healer asked with a bewildered laugh as she settled into a comfortable waltz with the man.

“Can’t I be in a good mood just because?  Perhaps it’s because I’ve got such a lovely dance partner.”  He answered with a roguish wink.

Wynne’s cheeks heated at the flattery, muttering ‘Oh you’ with a gentle slap to his chest.  Anders chuckled and spun her again.

Jethann came in with a handful of charts and a knowing grin.  “Haven’t you heard Wynne?  Our dear Anders has got himself a new boyfriend.”

Anders chuckled, his own cheeks heating to surpass his dance partner’s.  “No I haven’t.”

“But you’ve met someone?”  Wynne questioned with an searching look, the healer no doubt taking in his flushed face and sparkling eyes to assess the truth of the nurse’s statement.  “You _have_ , haven’t you?!”

“…maybe.”  A sly grin stretched across his lips as he thought on the rough baritone voice that had become nearly as vital as air to him over the course of the nearly half a dozen phone calls they had shared.  _Or maybe it’s payday.  Maybe I’m excited to finally talk to him again.  Maybe I’ll wear my ‘Hooked on a Feline’ shirt for him, or maybe-_

“What is the meaning of this?”

Jethann, and even the formidable Dr. Wynne, paled at the stern surgeon’s deep booming voice as he made his appearance known.  Anders alone remained completely unfazed as he released his dance partner and seamlessly swept Dr. Justice into his arms.  As usual, Justice took Anders’ strange behavior in stride, the odd pair sharing an undeniable synergy that allowed them to communicate without words in order to save lives… or in this case, dance a perfect Anderfels waltz.  “Does there _need_ to be a reason to dance in our lobby?”  Anders said airily as he effortlessly led the taller man into a dip.

Justice blinked as the blonde righted him once more.  “…yes.”

“ _Fun_ then.”

“We should be working.”  _1… 2… 3…_

 _1… 2… 3…_ “There aren’t any patients.”

“There is paperwork to be done.”  Justice’s eyes widened marginally even as he followed Anders’ lead into a twirl, his lab coat flaring gracefully out behind him.

“There will _always_ be paper work, live a little!”

“ _Anders_.”

The mage sighed and reluctantly halted his steps with a wry grin.  “You’re the boss.”

Justice frowned, or rather, his perpetual frown deepened.  “I am not.  We are equal partners in this practice, as I have told you many times.”

Anders’ lips quirked victoriously.  “Then as the co-boss, _I_ say it’s break time.”  Justice sighed in resignation as Anders started up the dance once more.

“…does proper decorum not dictate that I, as the taller party, lead?”  As always, even when the task at hand hardly made sense to the overly practical and oft out of touch Dr. Justice, he was at least determined to accomplish said task as correctly as possible.

Anders laughed brightly and shifted his grip from Justice’s hip to his shoulder.  His eyes slid shut as he imagined dancing with a very different partner than the man who stood before him.  An elven partner with a voice like crushed velvet.  The shoulder beneath his hand would be shorter even than his own, and perhaps a bit less broad, but still just as warm and strong.  The hand at his waist smaller and fine boned, perhaps rubbing absent circles against his hip with his thumb, or wandering to curl around the small of his back and pull him close.  Swaying to music only they could hear and whispering sweet nothings into a blushing ear, their stocking feet bumping as Pounce wound around their ankles and caused their steps to falter, laughing softly and using the interruption as an excuse to lean together and share a kiss-

Both doctors froze as a soft tinkling at the door heralded a new patient’s arrival.  Anders’ eyes flew open, his face flushed beet red at the subject of his fantasy rather than being caught mid-silliness by a patient.  The latter scenario happened on a nearly daily basis after all.  The healer plastered on a welcoming smile and beckoned the patient forward from where they hovered near the doorway.  “Don’t mind us, just having a little break time dance lesson.  How can I help you?”

The patient, an elderly human gentleman with an unhealthy pallor, glanced briefly at the doctor’s outstretched hand, to his _wrist_ , and Anders’ smile fell.  “ _You_ can’t help me.”  He said with narrowed eyes.  The man scanned the rest of the room’s occupants and zeroed in on Dr. Justice.  “Him.”

A mutinous expression flitted across Justice’s normally stoic features, but after a sigh and nod from Anders he reluctantly led the aged man into an exam room.  It wasn’t as though this was the first time this had happened, nor would it be the last.  When they opened A Light in the Dark they had vowed to help anyone who came to them for help, even those who didn’t appreciate or deserve it.  That man could be someone’s husband, father, grandfather, and it was not their place to dictate his morals, only to provide care.  Do no harm… no matter how much harm his prejudice did to others.

Anders frowned down at the sunburst tattooed upon his wrist, the Chantry’s concession in order for “dangerous” mages like himself to be allowed to roam free.  There had to be a way to differentiate these proverbial wolves in sheep’s clothing after all.  Mages had marched and lobbied and finally won the freedom to live their lives outside the CoM’s walls, but they were never free of scrutiny or suspicion.  Never free of the constant reminder written on their skin of the barbaric punishment that had been outlawed Ages ago, though never forgotten by mages… or the Chantry.  The sunburst that so many across Thedas saw as a symbol of hope had been twisted and turned into an almost comical boogeyman for mages, a wretched fate now featured in video games and cheesy horror films like ‘Night of the Living Tranquil’, a subject to be marketed and mocked, trivialized, _tranquilized_ -

The mage jumped as Wynne approached and placed a light hand on his back.  Without a word she whipped out a sharpie and took his wrist in her hand, her grip surprisingly steady, and drew a tiny smiley face in the center of the Chantry sunburst.  It was something done in the CoM for young apprentices still trying to come to terms with a world that didn’t seem to want them in it.  Anders had drawn his fair share of smileys, and had more than his fair share drawn for him.  His lips quirked wryly.  Was _still_ getting more than his fair share apparently.  He silently plucked the sharpie from the older mage’s grasp and took her wrist in turn, returning the favor in the center of her own sunburst, the smiley mirroring his own expression when he finally looked up at his coworkers, his _friends_. 

Anders grinned and sighed dramatically.  “Well, I suppose you heard the boss.  There’s paperwork to be done!”  A pair of groans sounded as business returned to normal, the spring returning to the mage’s step to compliment the smile on his face.  There would always be bigots in the world, but shift was nearly over, and it was _payday_.

 

* * *

 

Anders called at least once a week, usually on Mondays, and Fenris had yet to find a better way to start his week.  Whether the human was telling him about his day, sharing candid details of his life, describing his seemingly endless supply of kitten shirts, or gasping and moaning in the much deserved pleasure that Fenris bestowed, Anders’ voice had slowly but steadily become Fenris’ favorite sound.  Some distant part of him knew that he was getting too invested in Anders, letting him get too close, but the nagging thought was always drowned out as soon as Anders warm tenor flowed over him. 

Fenris had learned much about Anders through their conversations, both personally and sexually.  Anders considered himself bisexual, but held a slight preference for men, much like Fenris in that regard.  He liked to be talked dirty to, but did not enjoy overt roughness or talk of bondage.  The man admitted to being rather wild in his youth, but claimed he was too old for such acrobatics now.  Fenris couldn’t help but wonder if there weren’t more to it than that, but he could hardly begrudge him his privacy when he himself clung so dearly to his own, though he could feel his grip gradually loosening each time they spoke.  Anders responded to compliments and praise with sputtering denials and self-deprecation more often than not, but it was clear from the smile in his voice that he very much enjoyed such kindnesses.  Fenris’ job often required him to flatter his clients, but with Anders, he found the sweet nothings he uttered came far easier than perhaps they should have.

Anders, for his part, seemed to be growing more confident in his phone sex participation.  Whether it be his calling as a doctor, his love for all things feline, or his forays into aural sex, Anders proved to be passionate in everything he did.  He hardly stumbled at all these days as he described kissing and caressing him, and seemed dead set on bestowing just as much pleasure as he received, if not more… much to Fenris’ chagrin.  It was getting harder and harder, both literally and figuratively, to keep his vow of phone sex chastity after his slip up. 

Even as Anders’ boldness grew, his desire for kisses and foreplay had not diminished, nor had Fenris’ opinion that it was utterly endearing, as well as surprisingly sexy.  Anders hinted at not having an excess of disposable income, so Fenris made every effort not to dawdle as he guided Anders to his peak, but as they grew closer the scenarios they wove together inevitably became more… intimate.  Now rather than a thrilling but hurried affair against an alley wall, they found themselves meeting behind doors that could be locked, affording them more privacy and heightening the temptation for exploration.  A shower stall at the gym, the back seat of a car, a particularly amusing turn in a Chantry confessional that had them both laughing at the admittedly absurd scenario, all of the fantasies sharing an abundance of blushing ears and smiling lips pressed against increasingly exposed flesh. 

Though Anders still struggled at times to describe the attentions he lavished on his faceless partner, he had taken hold of the few details he possessed and made excellent use of them.  As a physician, he fortunately knew of any differences in things like physique and body hair between elves and humans without having to ask, and when Fenris had confided that his skin was darker than Anders’ own fair complexion, he had reveled in describing the kisses and nibbles he enthusiastically bestowed on the elf’s olive skin.  Against his better judgement, Fenris had revealed that he had ‘a tattoo’ in a moment of passion.  He did not elaborate that the white lines covered and marred his entire frame, and Anders had known him well enough to understand that if the elf had wanted him to know its placement and design he would have been told.  So Anders had taken the tidbit of information in stride and gleefully described licking along the lines, innocently ignorant of just how much of a commitment that endeavor would truly be.  Though knowing Anders as he did, the man would likely be more than up to the task. 

Thus far they had only spoken of the pleasure gained from wandering hands and mouths, but Fenris felt it was only a matter of time until they crossed that invisible threshold and spoke of penetrative sex.  It should not mean anything when the time came, it was only words after all, and if the elf had a silver for every time he had described fucking or being fucked by a client… well, as a matter of fact he _did_.  For Anders however… with his frank honesty and open affection… for Anders it would _mean_ something to reach that level of intimacy.  Fenris suspected that whatever was holding Anders back was the same reason that he always called from his terrible couch, rather than his bed.  For a man like Anders, a thrilling romp in an alley or a car was one thing, but his bed was reserved for more than just a quick fuck.  _His bed is a place for passion, connection, commitment, a place for making lov-_   Fenris frowned as the forbidden thought nearly crossed his mind.  Just words indeed.  For a man whose job it was to be and say whatever his clients wanted, Fenris had to admit that there were some words that held power even over himself.  Love had no place in the false intimacy he shared with these men, these _strangers_ that called him.  Even if Fenris’ words felt anything but false the more he spoke to him… even if Anders felt like anything but a stranger. 

Fenris had learned that Anders’ fondness for exhibitionism apparently stemmed from spending his formative years in some place called the “Com”, which the elf assumed to be some sort of commune.  His parents must have been free spirits of some sort, though Anders never spoke of them.  He spoke of many other facets of his life however, forever the honest open book for anyone who cared to read it.  Fenris found he very much cared.  The man was apparently attempting to become a vegetarian for both ethical and health reasons, but a lingering weakness for cheeseburgers continued to plague him.  He preferred the forest to the beach, but liked the outdoors in general, though he claimed to burn to a crisp after 15 minutes of sun.  He had _freckles_ , a trait Fenris had admitted to being a “human thing” he found incredibly cute to compliment Anders’ fondness for the blush that rose to the elf’s ears with increasing frequency.  Anders loved animals, cats chief among them of course, and had nearly become a veterinarian instead of a doctor.  Though ultimately he loved _people_ most of all, and seemed to have a faith in their inherent goodness that Fenris could hardly fathom, but couldn’t help but admire. 

During their last session, Anders had said he specialized in “Spirit healing”, a discipline the elf was not familiar with in his very limited knowledge of the medical field.  Though the title seemed appropriate for the charming and wonderful man that filled Fenris’ own tired jaded Spirit with light and warmth every time they spoke.

Anders continued to be kind and generous to an unheard of degree.  Unlike the vast majority of calls that abruptly ended with a loud click just as the client’s orgasm crested, Anders always stayed on the line well after he’d taken his pleasure to ensure that Fenris had as well, to tell the elf how well he had done, to wish him goodnight, to kiss him… _He would undoubtedly make a gentle and considerate partner…_   Fenris thought idly.  As though the passing observation had somehow granted his treacherous mind permission, pastel colored fantasies immediately began swimming through his head; walking hand in hand and stealing kisses, nuzzling sleepy and warm beneath the covers as the morning sun glowed against ridiculous cat print curtains, making meals together and snuggling on the sofa with him and ‘Ser Pounce-a-Lot’… Fenris frowned and shook the silly fantasies away.  _A lover for someone else.  He is a client, nothing more._

Fenris jumped slightly as the phone rang, jarring him out of his fond and undeniably inappropriate thoughts of the man who was getting harder and harder to think of as simply a ‘client’.  He shook his head firmly and cleared his throat, mentally preparing himself to focus on his work before pressing the button on the side of the headset.  “Hello?”

**‘Hey.’**

There was seemingly nothing Fenris could do to prevent the warmth that flooded him at the sound of the familiar voice on the other line, the heat pooling at the delicate tips of his ears with no more provocation than the man’s casual greeting.  “Hello Anders.  I hope this evening finds you well.”

 **‘Finds me well?**   **I love it when you talk like a fancy Steam Age gentleman.  If you tell me you’re wearing a monocle and top hat with your pajama trousers I might just come right now.’**  

The elf smirked at the human’s teasing.  _Two can play at that game._  “No, unfortunately I save my Steam Age finery for weddings, funerals and court proceedings.  So perhaps I should ask in a more familiar vernacular, ‘ _Meow_ is it going’ Anders?”

Anders chuckled warmly, sounding a bit tired, but undoubtedly happy.  **‘It’s going alright.  It was a long day at the clinic, as usual.  Had another patient refuse treatment from me.  It never fails to surprise me that someone would refuse free Spirit Healing that would cost a fortune at Hightown General and could very well save their life, all because of fear and ignorance,’** a heavy sigh crackled over the line, **‘Though it probably shouldn’t surprise me anymore.’**   Fenris frowned as Anders’ tone turned sad and resigned, and wondered once again what exactly Spirit Healing was, and why so many seemed to shun the practice.  It sounded holistic judging by the name, hardly dangerous or harmful, but Fenris was certainly not a Doctor.  He could still barely read at a high school level for Maker’s sake.  As always Fenris opted to keep his mouth shut in the end, telling himself it would distract from their purpose, rather than admit that his ignorance shamed him.  **‘But luckily,’** Fenris let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding as the smile returned to Anders’ voice, **‘My day has just gotten markedly better.’**  

The elf’s lips turned up into a fond smile once more as Anders’ warm tone returned.  “As has mine.  I was just thinking about you.”

He smiled, Fenris could _hear_ it.  **‘Really?  I was thinking about you too.  Well, that’s probably a bit of a given, seeing as I called you, so it would be silly to think of someone else wouldn’t it?’**   A soft self-deprecating chuckle floated over the line, **‘What I mean is, I’m pretty much always thinking about you.’**

“That must get distracting.”  Fenris teased with a smirk.

**‘You have no idea!  Can you imagine, trying to play at being a responsible respectable adult in the workplace while you’re mentally picking out which of your sexy kitten tees to wear for your phone sex boyfriend that night?  It’s pure torture!’**

There was laughter in his voice, so Fenris could only assume he was joking about the slyly slipped in ‘boyfriend’ comment.  He wasn’t certain whether he were comforted or irritated by that assumption.  “It is a shame then that you do not own any _sexy_ kitten tees, seeing as how none exist.”  He replied dryly, deciding it best to ignore the comment and its dangerous implications for his own sanity.

Anders’ laughter sounded like music to his blighted blushing ears.  **‘Oh I’ll have you know my selection for tonight is particularly titillating.  It says “Purrrmaid” and it’s got a little cartoon kitty with a fish tail for hind legs.  The tail has glitter on it, and…’** his voice lowered to a sultry whisper, **‘…the kitty is _topless_.’**

Fenris couldn’t help but let a true laugh escape at Anders’ endearing silliness, forgoing his usual restrained seductive chuckle and showing his mirth in earnest for a fleeting moment.  He smiled softly as his burst of laughter settled.  “Anders, while that is _undeniably_ sexy, I am beginning to grow concerned you do not own any clothing other than scrubs and terrible cat pun shirts.”

He laughed again, and Fenris felt his stomach flutter pleasantly.   **‘I think I might also have some scrubs _with cats on them_ from when I did my pediatric rotation in med school.  Seriously though, I do in fact own other clothing.  I like to at least play at being a normal sane person.  I usually only wear these when I’m bumming around the house.  You know, spending quality time with Pounce, cleaning, watching telly… spending quality time with _you_.’**

The elf grinned at the flirtatious lilt to the man’s voice.  As his comfort and confidence grew, Anders had lately revealed himself to be an incorrigible flirt when he had a mind to be.  “Well, I assume your cat is locked in the privy as usual, I don’t hear you cleaning nor the television in the background, so I suppose that leaves us with only one course of action.” 

Anders' warm laughter and a slight rustling answered him.  **‘Mmmm, you’ve read my mind.  Let me just get the feather on a stick and laser pointer.’**   The elf could hear the mischievous grin in the other man’s voice.

Fenris huffed out a breath of laughter.  Anders was clearly in a playful mood tonight, which suited Fenris just fine, finding the man’s quick wit and sense of humor to be just as engaging as the sex itself.  “Pet play hmm?  You convince me you are more ‘into’ your cat with each passing day.”  He said slyly, and was rewarded with an incredulous bark of laughter and sputtering assurances from the other man that he was joking.  Fenris had of course known the man had been teasing, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t respond in kind.  “I do not judge your _strange_ fetishes Anders, and it is certainly not the most unusual kink I have come across in my profession.”

 **‘For the last time no, I do not, under any circumstances, want to fuck my cat!’**  Anders said with attempted bluster, but his continued laughter rather ruined the effect.  **‘But now you’ve gotten me curious…’**   Fenris heard the sofa groan beneath Anders as though he had moved to the edge of his seat, **‘What _is_ the strangest kink you’ve come across?’**

Fenris grinned.  “Well, there is this man that keeps calling who has a disturbing fetish for terrible feline related puns…”

 **‘How _paw_ ful for you!  He sounds like a real _cat_ astrophe!’**  Fenris groaned and rolled his eyes, which only seemed to please Anders, if his laughter was any indication.  **‘Come on though, I can’t be the _only_ sexual deviant in our fine city.’**   The man was nearly whining in his curiosity, and Fenris cursed himself for finding it as endearing as he did.

The elf considered the various clients he had spoken to during his employ with a thoughtful hum.  “I believe one of the most unusual fantasies I have enacted was with a client that wished to believe I was a 20 meter tall Qunari.”

Another bark of incredulous laughter sounded out.  **‘What?!  That would make your cock nearly as tall as I am!’**

“He claimed to be a dwarf, so my hypothetical cock was likely _taller_ than him.”

**‘Sweet Andraste’s Flaming Arse… what did he _do_ with so much cock?’**

Fenris chuckled at Anders’ understandable confusion.  “He sort of… climbed on it?  It was a rather difficult call to take seriously, I will admit.  Though it was over quickly enough with me talking dirty to him in Qunlat during his exertions.”

 **‘You speak Qunlat?’**   Anders sounded equal parts surprised and impressed.

“Passably.  I gained an interest in the language when I spent some time in Seheron.”

 **‘You’re a man of many talents.’**   He definitely sounded impressed now, and Fenris couldn’t help but feel a kernel of pride at the other man’s praise.  **‘But Qunari are so… dour.  I can’t imagine what their dirty talk would sound like.  My cock will penetrate your arse so that you may know your place in the Qun?’**

Fenris chuckled softly.  “It is true that the Qunari are not known for their erotic poetry, but a certain level of sensuality can be achieved.  For instance, ‘Defransdim astaarit taarsidath halsaam’ roughly translates to ‘My cock rises when I think upon you’, which most would find to be sufficiently dirty.”  Fenris’ lips quirked as Anders faintly hummed his agreement.  “Though admittedly, when I am certain my client does not actually speak the language, I have been known to simply recite the Qunlat section of my television’s instruction manual to rather spectacular effect.”

Anders laughed brightly.  **‘Well I’m learning all your industry secrets now aren’t I?!  Push the menu button to select your aspect ratio, yeah, just like that, so fucking good…’**  

Fenris smirked fondly.  “You might have a promising second career prospect on your hands.”

 **‘Ha, can you imagine me doing what you do for a living?  Maker’s Balls, I’d be a stuttering mess!’**   Anders said with a self-deprecating chuckle.

“I do not find you to be a stuttering mess Anders.”

 **‘Ah, well, thank you.’**   The man sounded flustered even as his voice softened, **‘It’s only because I’m comfortable with you.  I can’t imagine talking about the… you know, the things we talk about… with anyone but you.’**

Fenris’ amused grin softened into a fond and genuine smile as he felt the tips of his ears heat.  “I am flattered Anders, and... though it is highly hypocritical of me, a part of me is glad that you feel that way.  I find I like the thought of keeping you all to myself.”  He admitted softly, his voice pitched low to match the primal possessive notion simmering in his belly at the thought of Anders sharing such intimacy with someone other than him.

Anders’ breath hitched.  **‘You- you’ve got me you know.  All to yourself.  I- I’m all yours.’**   He said softly, his words carried over the telephone line on a shuddering sigh.

Fenris couldn’t hold back the low growl of arousal at the thought of Anders, _his_ Anders, lovely and golden and pliant beneath him… and suddenly the elf understood exactly how much it would mean to _him_ to cross that final threshold into penetrative sex.  Not to merely _speak_ of it, because it would be more than words.  It would be his thoughts, his actions, his _feelings_ , all of him would be with Anders.  Fenris would not be playing a role or reading a script, he would be there with him, wringing every ounce of pleasure from Anders’ body, greedily swallowing up every laugh and every smile with panting breaths and seeking lips, his hand on his cock as he pumped into Anders’ tight heat until they both shuddered and screamed with pleasure.  Fenris was _there_ … “Tonight.”

**‘Tonight what?’**

“I-“ Fenris cleared his throat and willed his racing heart to calm, “I want to try something different tonight Anders, is that alright?” 

**‘Of course, I trust you.’**

The elf closed his eyes and swallowed down the warm feeling that threatened to overwhelm him at the human’s words.  “I want you to close your eyes and touch yourself for me.  Imagine I am in the room with you, watching you pleasure yourself.”  He held his breath as he waited for Anders’ response to his suggestion. 

 **‘Just… touch myself?’**   He sounded both doubtful and tentatively interested, which Fenris could more than work with.  **‘But, what about you?  You’re just going to watch?’**

Fenris smiled at Anders’ earnest desire to share his pleasure with him, arousal already starting to pool in his belly at the picture Anders would make for him in the throes of passion.  “We shall see if I can keep my hands to myself in time.  For now… I would very much enjoy seeing you pleasure yourself for me Anders.” 

 **‘F- for you?’**   His breathing sped up ever so slightly, and Fenris grinned.  **‘Alright.  Where should I touch myself?’**

The elf smiled as the scenario went exactly where he had hoped.  “Put your phone on speaker.  I want you to use both hands.”  He spoke with a confidence that very nearly made his requests into commands, shifting the power dynamic between them in a way that Fenris hoped the other man would find exciting.  As a doctor with his own practice, Anders spent his day dealing with countless stressful situations that required quick and decisive action.  Many of his clients found it to be freeing to hand control over to someone else after spending the majority of their day making difficult decisions, and Fenris could only hope that Anders would feel the same.

There was a faint fumbling and tapping before the noise settled and Anders’ voice echoed slightly over the line.  **‘Can you still hear me?’**

“Yes, good.  Can you hear me?”  A murmur of affirmation answered him, “Good.  Is your hair let down Anders?”  Another murmured ‘uh-huh’.  “Run your fingers through your lovely hair for me.”

 **‘Alright, but I- I feel a bit silly.  I mean, you can’t really see me, can’t really completely imagine what I look like… I mean… how can you enjoy this?’**   Anders huffed and sounded as though he’d taken his lip between his teeth as he tended to when he was nervous or unsure.

“What makes you think I cannot see you, cannot imagine you in my mind’s eye?”  Fenris grinned as a memory floated to the forefront of his mind.  “In fact, just a few days ago, I was at the super market and I saw a blonde man with the same height and build you have described to me.”

Anders gasped.  **‘Do you- do you think it was me?  Maker, when was the last time I was at the store?** ’  He trailed off sounding both worried and excited.

“It was not you Anders.”  Fenris smirked and cut off the man’s predictable string of questions, “Do you want to know how I knew it was not you?  His hair was too light, the color a dull pyrite in comparison to the beautiful burnished gold I know yours to be.  His eyes were blue instead of your rich honey brown.  His voice when he spoke to his companions… he was not you.  I would know your voice anywhere, I would know _you_ anywhere Anders.”  He sighed, his lips turning down into a small frown.  “However, we can do something else if you would like.  I want you to be comfortable.”

**‘No I- I am!  I just, I want you to get something from it too.’**

“I will, I assure you.  I want to watch you appreciate your body, worship it and bring yourself pleasure, so that I may study the path of your hands… so that I may follow that path with _my_ hands… with my tongue…”

 **‘Ah- fuck.’**   Fenris was pleased to hear Anders’ shiver of desire mingled with a soft breathy laugh, **‘You make a convincing argument.  Alright, I’m running my fingers through my hair… for you.’**

The elf’s cock twitched at the faint rustling of fabric on the other end of the line.  “Mmm, tell me how it feels Anders.  Do you like your hair stroked, pulled?”

**‘St- stroked.  I like my lover to run their fingers through my hair, hold me when he kisses me.  I wouldn’t say _no_ to a bit of pulling on occasion, but usually I- I like-‘**

“You like a gentleman.”  Anders murmured his agreement softly, almost as though he were embarrassed.  “It is fortunate then, that I happen to have recently been likened to a ‘fancy Steam Age gentleman’, assuming you don’t mind the top hat.”  He said with a smirk which widened into a full grin at Anders’ answering laughter.  “Stretch out on the sofa for me Anders.  Breathe, relax, let me take you in.”  A groan from the aging sofa could faintly be heard amidst the man’s clothing shifting on his lanky frame as he stretched and let out a contented sigh.  “So lovely spread out before me Anders.  Do you like the idea of my eyes on you?  About to watch you do something so private?”

**‘Mmmm, I- yes.’**

“Are you wearing pajama trousers?”

**‘Yes, should I- do you want me to take them off?’**

“No… not yet.”  The elf’s grin turned wicked, “Are you wearing smalls?”

A soft laugh sounded.  **‘No, I never wear them when I call you.’**

“I am not wearing any either.”  He laid a hand on the warm bulge awakening beneath the thin layer of his trousers.  “You are so sexy lying there Anders, all long legs and golden hair… and your titillating ‘ _Purrr_ maid’ shirt of course.”  He added in a fit whimsy, pleased when Anders laughed brightly at the purr the elf was careful to pronounce.  “Lift that shirt up for me Anders.  I want to see you touch your stomach and move slowly up your chest.  Tell me what it feels like.”

It was Anders’ turn to purr as his hands shifted against his flushed skin and pushed his shirt up his torso.  **‘My skin is hot, getting hotter just talking about it… knowing you’re watching.  Y- you know that bit of hair below my belly button that goes on beneath my trousers.?’**

“Mmmm, my tongue certainly knows it well.”

 **‘F- _fuck_.’  ** Anders huffed softly with an audible shiver, **‘I’m playing with it for you, running my fingers through it.  Do you like that?’**

A soft groan escaped his lips as his cock twitched in interest beneath his pajama trousers.  “ _Yes_ Anders.  Tell me more.”

**‘My fingers are moving up my stomach.  I- I don’t have a six pack or anything, not very muscular at all really, my friends say I’m too skinny-‘**

“You are perfect.”  Fenris interrupted with a soft frown, by now able to recognize and put a stop to the man’s habit of self-deprecation.  “Firm enough to be healthy and strong, but soft enough that I want to reach out and touch you, hold you and kiss every inch of you.”

Anders gasped and the couch gave another groan.  **‘I wish you were here, touching me… kissing me.’**

“All in good time.  I have not gotten my fill of watching you yet.  Touch your nipples for me Anders.  Play with them for me.”

It sounded as though Anders bit his lip to stifle a moan.  **‘Ah- I’m running my fingers over my chest, pushing my shirt up so you get just a peek of my nipples.  I’m running my fingers through my chest hair, tugging a bit-‘**

“Ah- my trousers are getting so tight, getting so turned on watching you.  Do you enjoy teasing me Anders?”

**‘…maybe.’**

Fenris let himself groan with desire as he kneaded at the steadily growing tent in his trousers.  “Do not stop.”

A breathy laugh met Fenris' ears and made his stomach flutter.  **‘Mmmm, I’m touching my nipples for you, rolling them between my fingers.  Ah- feels so good.’**

“Are your nipples hard for me Anders?”  The human mumbled a breathy ‘yes’.  “Take off your shirt for me.  Let me see you.”  Anders grunted softly as he removed the article of clothing and settled back on the couch.  “So beautiful Anders.  Mmmm, I like seeing those sexy little freckles on your shoulders.  I want to connect those tiny perfect dots with my tongue.”

**‘Ah- want you to-‘**

“Play with your cock for me Anders.  Don’t touch yourself yet, just rub the fabric of your trousers on your cock.  Tell me how it feels.”

He moaned in earnest as shifting flannel over heated flesh could be heard.  **‘Ah- fuck- feels so good.  I- I’m so hard.  Ah- my trousers are already wet at the tip of my prick- wet for you.  Ah-‘**

Fenris closed his eyes and stroked himself with a hand still above his trousers, his fingers tracing his full erection and unsurprisingly finding a spot of moisture of his own.  “Fuck- Anders, I’m so hard for you.  I’m touching myself through my trousers as I watch you do the same.  I’m wet for you too Anders.”

**‘Ah- wanna touch-‘**

“Take off your trousers for me.  Go slowly.  Slide them past your hips little by little.”  Shifting fabric and squeaky sofa springs could be heard through the headset.  Fenris closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the chair as he stroked his clothed erection.  “Fuck yes Anders, I love how you tease me.  Slide those trousers down those long legs.”

**‘Alright, I- I’m naked.  What do you want me to do?’**

“Mmmm spread your legs for me, let me see all of you.”  Fenris shuddered with barely restrained desire as his mind supplied a picture painted in broad golden strokes of his beautiful Anders open and willing before him, “You’re so sexy Anders, fuck, stroke your thighs for me.  Run your fingertips along your smooth skin and imagine my lips on you, my tongue.”

**‘Fuck, I’m shaking- want you so bad-‘  
**

Fenris’ fingertips snuck beneath his trousers to tease at the sparse nest of hair surrounding his erection.  “I want you too Anders.  Want to grab those long beautiful legs and put them over my shoulders.  Want to spread you open and fuck you into that couch.”  The words tumbled from his lips unplanned, not intending to express his desire just yet, but unwilling to take them back after Anders answered him with a lovely keening moan.

**‘Ah- yes- _please_ -‘**

“Would you like that Anders?”  He hissed softly as he teasingly stroked the heated flesh beneath his trousers and sent shivers racing through him.  “Do you want to take my cock tonight?”

 **‘Fuck- yes- _yesyesyesyes_ -‘ **Anders panted, aged springs squeaking as he squirmed desperately on the rickety sofa, **‘Want your cock inside me- want you to fuck me- take me- please-‘**

“Ah-“ Fenris couldn’t stop the moan that tumbled from his lips at the man’s whispered plea.  “Yes, Anders, get yourself ready for me.”  The elf lifted off his seat enough to use trembling hands to shift his trousers down and off his hips and free his throbbing member.  “Stroke your cock for me Anders.”

 **‘Yes- ah- shit!  I’m so hot, so hard for you.  Can’t stand it- want you.  Ah- ah-‘** his panting breaths took on a rhythm to match the sound of flesh sliding against flesh as he began to stroke himself.

“I’m stroking my cock watching you Anders.  Fuck- you’re so beautiful, so hot fucking your hand for me.”  For once his claims of participation were not a lie as his hand wrapped around his aching length and began stroking at an even pace to match the sounds of pleasure on the other end of the line.  “You want me inside you Anders?  You want me to fuck your tight arse?”

 **‘Oh fuck- yes!  Want you so bad- you- you’re all I want- all I think about- all I- ah- I-‘** The pace of his strokes increased as his words degenerated into a jumbled mess.

Fenris’ hand sped on his cock at the thought of taking the beautiful man whose voice warmed his heart and filled his dreams, now spread out so enticingly for him to fuck into oblivion on his aging sofa somewhere across this Maker forsaken city.  “Get some oil, lotion, something- stretch yourself for me.  Won’t hurt you- never hurt you Anders.  Make room for me- make room for my big hard cock inside you.”

His breathy laugh sounded out bright, free and so _so_ beautiful.  **‘Ha, upside of being a mage, always have lube on hand.  Ah- fuck- I’ve summoned some oil and I’m pushing my finger inside-‘**

Fenris’ blood ran cold, his hand stilling on his prick as a single word echoed through his mind and drowned out everything but an overwhelming sense of fear and dread.  “You- what?  Did you say… you are a _mage_?”  _Not Anders, please, please not my Anders…_

 **‘Wha- yeah.  You knew that.’**   Anders replied distractedly as Fenris began to shake, his heart hammering in his chest as the man, the _mage_ , continued to ramble on about his cursed craft.  **‘There’s this great spell, oil whenever you want, makes spontaneous sex so much easier.  Fuck- I’m so tight- it’s so good though- can’t wait fo-‘**

“No!”  Fenris snapped coldly on reflex as he jumped to his feet and tugged his trousers up over his rapidly diminishing arousal.  The once beautiful image of Anders, his beautiful golden Anders, face flushed with desire and honey colored eyes shining with affection… now morphed into the sneering visage of Danarius.  Soft golden hair became grey and course, long fingered lightly freckled hands became gnarled and bloodstained as they greedily reached for him.  The burn of the tattoo gun, the sickly feeling of magic crawling over him, inside him, holding him down as he screamed, the color bleeding from his hair until it was shining stark white, it’s purity mocking him as Danarius made sure he would _never_ feel clean again.  “Not another word _mage_!”  He snarled coldly, his fists clenched tightly at his sides.

All sound on the other end of the line stopped with the mage’s strangled gasp. 

 

* * *

 

 

**‘No!  Not another word _mage_!’**

Anders’ gasped at the elf’s harsh words, the raw hateful tone sending a shiver down his spine that was anything but pleasurable.  “Wha- I- you  _knew_  I was a mage… I’ve said before…”  He breathed in disbelief, some foolish part of him hoping that this was all some sort of silly misunderstanding.

**‘You most certainly did not.  You _never_  told me!’ **

“I- I did.  Or at least I certainly never tried to  _hide_  it…”  The mage whimpered, completely at a loss.  A cruel scoff crackled across the line, and Anders’ felt his heart begin to break at the sheer injustice of the situation.  “Look, is this- is my being a mage going to be a  _problem_?!”  He asked incredulously, as though the answer weren’t already evident enough.

A faint growl and muttered string of cursing in a foreign tongue Anders didn’t recognize met the mage’s ears before the elf continued harshly.   **‘You should have told me what you were!’**

Anders found himself unconsciously cowering at the man’s angry tone, so different from the fond warmth and playful banter they used to exchange that it might as well have been a stranger he spoke to now.  Despite the elf being somewhere far away across the city, Anders hastily grabbed his wrinkled tee shirt off the ground and scrambled to cover his nudity on reflex as hot spikes of fear and shame coursed through him.  “I  _did_!  Maker this can’t be happening…” tears began to burn his eyes as his hurt and disbelief slowly turned to anger in a last ditch act of self-preservation, “I’m not  _allowed_  to hide what I am after all!  I have to be registered all good and proper like a dog that’s had its shots or a blighted sex offender!  The way we’re treated, the way _you’re_ treating me after all we’ve- I  _should_  have tried to keep it a secret!  But stupid me,  _stupid_  naïve Anders!  I- I trusted you!  Did you forget that I’ve mentioned my dislike of Templars  _several_  times?!  And what about my living in the bloody CoM dorms?!  Did that slip your mind?!”

 **‘How would you living in some sort of commune denote you are a _mage_?!’**  The elf hissed back, his voice cold and dripping with barely contained fury and distain.

It was Anders’ turn to scoff.  “Ok, not a big fan of the way you keep saying  _mage_ , like it’s a dirty word.  And it’s C.O.M., as in Circle of Magi, as in the place they ship us off to before we’re harrowed so we don’t offend the sensibilities of bigots that say  _mage_  like that.  Everyone knows what the CoM is!”

**‘I do not!  I am not familiar with your _mage_  terminology, nor do I wish to be!  Had I known what you were I would have never accepted your patronage!’**

“Accepted my patronage?”  An incredulous laugh that sounded much more like a sob escaped the mage’s lips as the elf’s unique and charming phraseology that Anders had teased him for only minutes ago was so easily weaponized against him.  “That’s an awfully fancy way of saying ‘I wouldn’t have talked about sucking your filthy mage cock for coin’!”

**‘Perhaps, but the meaning remains the same.  I do not cater to _your_ kind.’**

Anders felt his cracked and battered heart shatter at the bitter and hateful words that spit from the other man’s lips like venom.  _‘Your kind’, like I’m not even a blighted person_.  Tears finally escaped the confines of his lashes to trickle down his cheeks, and the mage lashed out like the wounded animal the elf seemed to think he was.  “Well, I may be a degenerate  _mage_ , but what’s your excuse for degrading yourself like this for a living?  Too ugly to get work as a  _real_  whore?”

**‘How _dare_ \- my personal life is none of your concern!’**

**_You_** _were my concern, my excitement, my joy, my friend, my confidant, my lo- fuck!_   Anders fought not to tumble into complete hysteria as his sad pathetic little false construct of a world fell down around him.  “But the fact that I’m a mage- oh sorry,  _mage_  is?!  Last I checked, mages wank the same as everyone else!  And when we aren’t busy with being sins against the Maker, we also eat, sleep, go to work, have friends and pets and hobbies and live our bloody lives the same as everyone else!”  He distantly registered he was shouting and he couldn’t bring himself to care.  “But no, you’re right; the first time we spoke I should have cackled maniacally while lightening crashed in the blighted background to reveal my true nature!”

**‘…forget this number _mage_.’**

“Gladly!  I wouldn’t waste one more coin on a hateful bigot like you!”

The telltale click of the elf hanging up punctuated the conversation, the jarring dial tone soon joining the sound of the mage’s quiet broken sobs.


	4. Of Cats and Dogs... and Other Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's here, the fluff is here! But first, a small but relevant AU note. In this future!Thedas, the events of the Dragon Age games still all happened Ages ago. Epic poems and numerous re-tellings and re-imaginings have been made from the original Tethras manuscript, school kids put on adorable historical plays about it, and in recent years a LOTR-style film trilogy has come out to massive critical and financial success. Anders _might_ cosplay as the 'Renegade Mage' at Cons when he has the coin, but that is decidedly less relevant ;)
> 
> Also, mention of past *takes deep breath* Anders/Hawke, Fenris/Danarius, Fenris/Isabela and current Isabela/Merrill.

Nearly three weeks, going on an eternity, since Anders last heard his voice. 

It had just been phone sex, it was supposed to be simple, uncomplicated, no strings… how then had he let himself become so entangled?  The elf wasn’t his lover, wasn’t his blighted boyfriend, fuck- he didn’t even know the bastard’s _name_!  Anders had simply been fooling himself, thinking he’d known him, thinking they had some sort of connection, that he could _trust_ him.   _He was paid to get you off.  You had to **pay** someone to act like he cared about you.  Haven’t you learned by now?  No one cares about you._

A tear slipped past his lashes to follow a well-traveled path down his cheek.  Anders grumbled and scrubbed the tear away as he stripped out of his scrubs and turned on the shower tap.  He’d already cried far too much about this as it was.  Enough really was enough.  Anders didn’t like to think of himself as particularly filled with self-loathing, but sometimes it was so hard to believe that he was worth a damn when no one else seemed to think so.  Just when he had begun to think this man was different, of course everything he’d said had been an act, wasn’t it always?  A grim smirk twisted his features as he scrubbed away the last faded remnants of the smiley face Wynne had drawn for him.  Smiling acceptance of his status as a mage?  What a joke.  He watched as the ink went down the drain to flow away just like all the other lies before it.

At least Garrett hadn’t cared he was a mage… then again he hadn’t cared much for him at all.  Sure, it had been fun at first.  You knew it was destined to be a roller-coaster when you meet your partner wandering lost on the street looking for the Deep Roads night club, only to find yourself drug along for the ride.  At the time Anders found it charming that the man had lost his phone and had sheepishly elicited the help of Anders' phone’s GPS, only to wait until Anders had a couple drinks in him before pulling out his very not-lost phone with a wink.  The mage had told himself his impromptu date had just wanted an excuse to talk to him, wasn’t that _sweet_ , when he should have seen the lie for the red flag it was.  But he hadn’t seen it, hadn’t _wanted_ to.  He hadn’t seen how self-centered the man had been, hadn’t seen how moving to Hightown only changed him for the worse, hadn’t seen how chummy Garrett had gotten with Meredith during his campaign for Viscount… how he had gotten into bed with the Templar Order, in every sense of the word.  Garret Hawke, the Champion™ Kirkwall deserves!  _The Cheating Bastard I deserved?  I suppose that’s what I get for dating a politician._

Anders growled and shook his head, beads of moisture flying from the tips of his hair as the water trickled to a stop and the mage stepped out of the shower.  “Stop making excuses for him!  Even if he’d been the blighted Ferelden Prime Minister, I _didn’t_ deserve that!”  He muttered, drying off and pulling on pajama trousers and a plain white tee shirt with a huff.  That was his problem, he was too quick to forgive and forget, too quick to trust, too quick to fall too hard.  _If you aren’t careful, I might just fall for you._   Shit… he’d been the one who hadn’t been careful enough.

The steady downward spiral of his thoughts was interrupted by a furry warmth brushing against his ankles accompanied by a plaintive meow.  Anders’ lips twitched into a soft smile as he bent to pick up Pounce and snuggle him against his chest, the deep rumbling purr vibrating from the cat’s frame a tangible reminder that at least someone was happy to be with him.  Sure it was his pet and half of it may well be the fact that he held the secret to the can opener, but Maker it was _something_ , and Anders would gladly take it.  “I’m talking to myself again aren’t I Pounce?  Should I talk to you instead?  Would you like to talk to me?”  Anders was pleasantly surprised to feel a slight chuckle bubble up from his throat at the feline’s answering merp and friendly head-butt against his chin.  “Oh I _see_.  Very profound.  Yes Ser-Pounce, you’re wise beyond your years aren’t you?  Aren’t yooou?  But what do you think about Antiva’s deficit crisis?”  A loud meow answered him.  “Hmmm, you make a fair point…” 

After a whirlwind half an hour of feather on a stick and laser pointer madcap hijinks, Anders was feeling a bit more like himself.  He’d been through worse rejections and faced harsher critics, and he’d always come out stronger for it.  Even if it hurt like a bitch, he would weather this too.  Seeing that Pounce had given up on all that pesky chasing business in favor of eviscerating a catnip mouse, Anders stretched and laid back on the sofa with a contented hum.  He still had Pounce, he still had friends who had been worrying after him and trying to get him out of the house, still had his pride in himself and the fact he was a mage, the rest of the world be damned.  The mage let out a surprised huff of laughter as Pounce, apparently having vanquished his foe, jumped to curl up on his chest.  A smile found its way onto his lips.  It would be alright. 

_'Hard up in Hi-'_

His eyes widened when the now familiar sultry recording caressed his ear, and the mage fairly juggled his cell phone in his haste to hang up.  Anders heaved a heavy sigh and massaged the bridge of his nose.  How pathetic was it that feeling even a tiny glimmer of happiness had become synonymous with talking to _him_ , so much so that he had dialed the blighted hotline on reflex?  Even after the hurtful things the elf had said, it was still impossible to forget the way the man had made him feel.  _I was just thinking about you_ … _I am lucky to have found you_ _… ‘meow is it going’ Anders… I missed you… so beautiful… you are perfect…_   Anders closed his eyes against tears that threatened to fall once more.  The man had made him feel like he was worth the time, worth the effort, worthy of being loved.  Until Anders had become nothing but a _mage_ to him, then suddenly he wasn’t even worth the paycheck.

What was perhaps the cruelest joke in the absolute farce his life had become, was that where he somehow found himself broken hearted over a breakup with a man he’d convinced himself he’d been dating for 5 blighted silvers a minute, and despite how angry he was, he was never quite angry enough to truly hate him.  Damn it all if he didn’t still _miss_ him, didn’t still lo- it didn’t matter.  The elf had made it more than clear what his feelings were on mages… on him. 

Anders _never_ learned.  Even now he found himself regularly engaging in his self-destructive habit of coming up with excuses for the other man’s callousness; perhaps the elf really had missed every single one of the numerous mentions he made to being a mage, perhaps a mage had hurt or betrayed him in the past, perhaps he hadn’t really meant all he had said in his shock and anger, perhaps…  _Perhaps I should stop making excuses for him and move on._

If only it were that simple.  The heated words between them still echoed through his mind, keeping him up at night and haunting his waking hours.  It wasn’t even the other man’s hateful words that bothered him the most.  Though it had been heartbreaking, being treated like a pariah was unfortunately par for the course for most mages.  Instead, it was Anders’ own vicious words that stabbed at him.  _Too ugly to get work as a real whore?!  …wouldn’t waste one more coin…_   Heartbreak or no, since when had he decided it was alright to throw petty insults and slut shame a man working in a perfectly legal profession?  Anders wasn’t that sort of man, or rather, he certainly didn’t _want_ to be that sort of man.

He would move on, _needed_ to… and to do that… he needed to clear his conscience.

The mage took a deep breath and stared at his phone, Pounce’s adorable visage gracing his background seeming to cheer him on as he brought up the keypad and dialed.  Anders placed a slightly trembling hand on Pounce’s warm little sleeping body, running his fingers through the soft fur and taking a calming breath as the phone rang.  He’d had enough of feeling like a limp marionette, floundering aimlessly after his strings had been cut.  This time he would cut those last lingering strings himself and walk away without regrets. 

_'Hard Up in Hightown?  You’ve called the right place-'_

7… 1… 3…

_…forget this number **mage**._

“I can’t.”  He whispered brokenly as the phone rang-

 

* * *

 

Fenris shouted and threw the wine bottle across the room, the dark glass shattering and sending red wine cascading down the wall to soak into the plush rug beneath that had probably cost Danarius a fortune.  It was bound to leave a stain.  _Good, let the bastard’s penthouse stain and crumble!  Let it fall down around me!_  He thought savagely as he surveyed the state of disrepair he had let his home sink into in the past weeks.  When he had first won his former “employer’s” Kirkwall residence in the court case that finally secured his freedom and locked the man away forever, Fenris had not known what to do with such luxury.  He was loathe to keep it neat and tidy, seeing it as how Danarius would have liked it.  So he had purposefully left dishes out, broken bottles, punched holes in the wall, and hidden away in what was little more than a den he had crafted for himself in the guest room.  He would _never_ lay eyes on the bastard’s bed again. 

It was only in recent months that he had emerged from his lair of fear and self-loathing and decided to make the place _his_.  He had cleaned up the mess, banished the ants and other vermin that had begun to make inroads in the kitchen, changed the décor, re-arranged the furniture, and had even entertained his own guests once or twice.  For the first time in his life, he was out of the controlling grasp of a Magister and free to start living like a _person_.  What a fine person he had proven himself to be.

_Had I known what you were I would have never accepted your patronage… I do not cater to your kind… forget this number **mage**._

“Vishante kaffas.”  He sighed heavily and ran a hand through his hair.  The elf padded over to the shattered bottle and set about picking up the shards of glass, thankful that he had thrown his tantrum before he’d gotten fully drunk and lost the coordination needed to avoid injury.  Fenris had spent far too many nights of late studying the bottom of a wine bottle.  “Pull yourself together,” he mumbled to himself as he deposited the remains of the broken bottle in the bin, “What’s done is done, it is over, it never _was_ in the first place, it is better this way…” _You’re fine as you are, whatever you are... Is it strange to say I missed you?  Because I did, miss you I mean... Can I- could I kiss you... I’m pretty much always thinking about you... I wore it for you... I might just fall for you..._  

“Fasta vass… _Anders_.”  Fenris sighed miserably and pressed his forehead against the wine stained wall.  He closed his eyes against the moisture he felt threatening as the man’s name crossed his lips only to be swallowed up by the oppressive silence that Fenris would give anything to hear filled with Anders’ beautiful voice and joyful laughter once more.  But Fenris had ruined any chance of that with this blighted hatred and fear that refused to leave him.

Fenris knew he had been wrong, knew that things in the south were nothing like what he had experienced in Tevinter, but knowing a thing was not the same as _feeling_ it.  When he heard the word “mage”, it rang out as “Magister” in his ears.  To the scarred and wary elf, a spell was as good as a ritual, and magic equated to nothing but _pain_.  It was nearly impossible to erase those associations that had been burnt in to his very skin by Danarius’ cruel sadistic nature, mad with his sick obsession with the famous lyrium warrior of Ages past that Fenris had been named for.  Though unlike the legend that likely never even existed, Fenris’ ordinary white tattoos did not enable him to perform great escapes or exact dramatic and bloody revenge.  They only served as a painful reminder of how he had been nothing but a thing to Danarius, just a pretty doll to parade and play with as he pleased.    

_You’re a person, not just some fantasy for pathetic horny men like me... it feels dirty to turn you into some sort of fetish doll..._

Anders had been too good to be true, of course there had been a catch.  Of course he had been a mage.  Worst of all was that Anders _had_ told him, numerous times.  When Fenris thought on it, he could recall the term CoM used in reference to the Circle by people in the Marches, it hardly made sense why Anders would worry about Templars unless he were policed by them, and the term _Spirit_ Healer implied connection to the Fade by its name alone.  All the signs had been there.  Fenris had simply not wanted to see them.  So instead he had attributed maliciousness and deceit to a man who had never shown him anything but kindness and honesty.

Fenris frowned and ran a finger along the white line running down the inside of his wrist.  _Anders must have a tattoo here as well, placed unwillingly by those that held power over him… just like my own._   A Chantry sunburst like the one Bethany had shown him.  Bethany, his _friend_ , one of the first friends he had made in the strange new city he found himself in… Bethany, a _mage_.  Kaffas.  She would be furious with him, not to mention ashamed.  Isabela too for that matter.  She was currently dating a little elven mage in fact, a scatterbrain and general hot mess of a person in Fenris’ humble opinion, but a kind and sweet girl all the same.  Many southern mages he had met since his exodus from Tevinter had proven themselves exceptions to his experiences, and the elf had thought he was beginning to move past his blind hatred.  Apparently not.

Fenris sighed and plopped down dejectedly at his kitchen table, noting the blinking light on the phone in front of him, indicating there were calls to be taken… as always.  He had been working sparse hours these past weeks, either too drunk or heartsick to be any good to his clients.  Besides, whoever was on the other line, it wouldn’t be Anders, and never would be again.  He looked down at his chest and felt a grim smirk twitch to his lips at the face that stared back.  He had seen the “Grumpy Cat” shirt on clearance yesterday at Lirene's Fereldan Imports, the furry visage glaring back at him glumly, and Fenris had purchased it on a whim.  It not only conveyed his mood, but wearing it gave him the fleeting sentimental illusion that he was somehow closer to Anders, that if he saw it, it might make him smile… might make him forgive him.

It was a foolish notion.  Fenris’ transgression was not one that could be forgiven with a blighted cat shirt.  It _should_ not be forgiven.

He closed his eyes and breathed deep.  It was time to move on.  Fenris knew that even with his housing accounted for, he could not continue to eat and live comfortably if he didn’t get back to work.  Back to _whoring_ … vishante kaffas.  He unclenched the fist he had unconsciously tightened and opened his eyes, adjusted the headset, and pressed the button to make him available for calls.  The phone rang immediately, and Fenris could only steel himself and answer.

“Hello?”

**‘I- uh… hey.  It’s me.’**

It was as though the floor dropped out from under him as the achingly familiar voice crackled across the line.  “A- Anders.” 

 

* * *

 

**‘A- Anders.’**

Anders’ heart pounded as he tried in vain to find some sort of emotion in the elf’s voice.  Was he angry he had called, disgusted… pleased?  _Don’t be stupid Anders._   “Sure you don’t mean _mage_?”  He asked bitterly, not able to stop himself from spitting the word with the same awful inflection the other man had used when they last spoke.

 **‘No I- that is not what I meant…’**   His voice was tight, guarded, as though treading carefully through a loaded verbal minefield.  **‘I… did not expect you would call again.’**

He frowned.  “Didn’t expect I would… or _hoped_ I wouldn’t?”

The elf cleared his throat faintly, **‘…worried you would not.’**

Anders’ eyebrows rose, along with his heart rate, at the unexpected answer.  “Ah, well, I didn’t like where we left things… last time.”

**‘Nor did I.’**

The mage grimaced.  _Not giving me much to go on… but I suppose he hasn’t hung up yet either._   He closed his eyes, a calming breath crackling across the rift between them.  “Listen, I just wanted to say- I’m very passionate about mage equality, about _being_ a mage, but… you have a right to decide who your customers are, even if I don’t agree.  I’m certainly not going to make you hate mages any less by saying… the sort of things I said to you.  I was hurt and angry, but that doesn’t make it right.  The truth is… I thought you were wonderful.”  Anders swallowed thickly and mentally cursed how his voice cracked with emotion.  “I- I think that’s why it hurt so much to find out you hate mages, and thereby… hate me.”

**‘No- I-‘**

“It’s ok.  Well, it’s _not_ ok, but you don’t have to explain yourself.  I’m sure you’ve got reasons why you feel justified to hate an entire group of people simply because they were born with magic, but frankly I don’t want to hear it.  I- I didn’t call to fight with you.”

**‘Then… what did you call for?’**

Anders sighed heavily.  “Just… to say I’m sorry.  I meant it when I told you I couldn’t imagine sharing… what we had…” he sniffled and closed his eyes tight, “I thought you were someone special, and I- I couldn’t stand the thought of you feeling devalued or cheapened because of something I said in anger.  You _aren’t_ a whore, and there’s nothing wrong with what you do.  You help people… helped me.  I hate the thought that I’m the kind of person that could say something so awful to someone I cared about.  I- I’m so sorry.”  Complete silence met his emotional outpouring.  Tears welled up and suddenly all Anders wanted to do was hang up and throw his phone out the blighted window.  “So… right.  I guess, that’s it.  I won’t bother you anymo-“

 **‘Wait!  Anders- I- _please_ wait!’**   The other man’s breath came out in ragged bursts that crackled faintly as he gathered his thoughts.  **‘I- thank you.  Your apology is appreciated.  However, I believe it is I that owe you the apology.  I do not hate all mages, and I most certainly do not hate you.  I realize I may have overreacted-‘**

“ _Overreacted_?!  You were a bastard!”  Anders couldn’t stop the words flying from his mouth.  He flinched at his outburst and bit his lip, waiting for the telltale click-

**‘…agreed.  Though it is no excuse for my behavior, please understand… when you said you were a mage, I panicked and lashed out at you in response to the sins of a mage from my past… a Magister.’**

The mage gasped.  “You’re from the Imperium?”  Not that much information came out of the country after they closed their borders following the last failed Exalted March against them, but Anders knew enough to know that if the elf had come from Tevinter… that would explain a lot.

 **‘Yes.  I spent the majority of my life there under the ‘employ’ of a Magister named Danarius.  He was a powerful mage who delighted in using that power to hurt, control and manipulate others.  The things I saw him do- the things he did to _me_ \- kaffas- I _can’t_.’**   His voice hitched in a way that made Anders’ heart ache.

“It’s ok.  I mean, I understand, you don’t have to say any more.”      

 **‘Thank you,’** he breathed softly, **‘Suffice it to say, to me mages have always represented fear, pain, oppression and abuse of power.  I am only beginning to learn that it seems to be the opposite in the south, and sometimes- it is all too easy to fall back on old mindsets.  It is… difficult for me to change my gut reaction to mages, but I assure you… I am _trying_.’  ** The elf’s voice trembled faintly as he continued, **‘I am ashamed of how I treated you.  You were… _are_ special to me too.  I- I know I can never hope to be forgiven, but I- please know how sorry I am Anders.’  **

A watery smile twitched to the mage’s lips as a tear streamed down his face.  “It’s alright, you’re already forgiven.”  His voice came out thick with all the tender emotions bubbling up inside him, and he couldn’t bring himself to care.

**‘I do not deserve it.’**

Anders laughed, the sound coming out more of a feeble trembling hiccup than anything, and filled with more joy than he’d felt in weeks.  “Too late.”

 **‘** **Anders… I do not deserve _you_.’  ** There was a definite smile in his voice now, an audible tentative happiness that seemed the verbal equivalent of toeing the water before jumping in. **‘You know I… I considered what I would say to you if I were fortunate enough to speak to you again.  I wanted desperately to try and make things right between us, to apologize for hurting you, to express my remorse and shame in my treatment of you… but I feared nothing seemed quite…’**  he cleared his throat awkwardly  **‘** **…** **puurrrfect?’**   Anders heard a thunk that sounded suspiciously like the elf’s head hitting the kitchen table, followed by mumbled foreign words that must have been Tevene.   **‘** **Vishante kaffas.’**

“Did you- did you just… make a cat pun for me?”  The mage sputtered, hardly able to believe his ears over the pounding of his soaring heart.

**‘I… attempted.  I fear it was not up to your typical caliber, but I am relatively new to the genre.’**

“No no, it was quite good!”  A grin slowly curled upon Anders’ lips, his stomach fluttering giddily as they effortlessly fell into their easy banter once more.  It was almost as though they had never parted, only a little bit more awkward, a little more honest.  “You see, I thought very seriously about still being angry with you, but when you said that, it really gave me… _paws_.”

The elf’s soft laughter was full of relief.  **‘…I missed you Anders.’**

Anders’ heart skipped a beat.  “I missed you too.”

**‘And I believe it goes without saying, but I am glad you did not forget my extension.’**

“I couldn’t if I tried.  I couldn’t forget _you_.”  Anders confessed, his cheeks heating faintly.  “So… where do we go from here?”

 **‘Where would you like us to go?’**   He cleared his throat uncharacteristically awkwardly, **‘I mean, that is, do you want me to…’**

“To wha- oh!  No!”  The flustered mage stammered.  “Sorry, I mean, it’s not that I don’t _want_ \- it’s just, I’m all for make-up sex, but I… I’d rather not just now.”

**‘Of course, I understand.’**

“Do you think… could we just talk for a bit?  Is that alright?” 

The elf’s smile was audible as he answered.  **‘I would like that very much.’**

Anders’ eyebrows furrowed, his lips turning down slightly.  “Even though I’m a mage?  Because I won’t pretend I’m not to make you comfortable.”

A deep breath whooshed across the speaker.  **‘As I recall, you once said to me, “You are fine as you are, whatever you are, I just want _you_ ”… the same holds true in the reverse.’**  The last words were whispered almost shyly, and Anders thought his heart might burst with happiness.

“A-alright,” a smile broke out over his features even as he sniffled and wiped away a lingering stray tear, the mage scarcely able to believe that this wasn’t just a beautiful dream, “But fair warning, I’m not like one of those fun Token Mage Friends people always seem to have in sitcoms.  You know, always the life of the party, juggling fireballs, chilling everyone’s drinks and lighting cigarettes with sparks from my fingers.  You’ve no idea how much mana those sorts of  _hilarious_  hijinks really take.”

 **‘What else _is_  there for a mage to do at a party?’**  Anders’ smile widened at the teasing inflection in the other man’s voice.

“Well, my only other option, as the movies would have you believe, is to dress in dark robey clothing and carry around my giant and very mysterious ancient grimoire while looking shifty.”

**‘That would surely make dancing at said party rather awkward.’**

“Right?!  That’s why I keep all my best demon summoning and necromancy spells on my  _phone_!”  The mage was rewarded with a bark of laughter.  “Honestly though, on the rare occasion someone is foolish enough to invite me to a party, I personally tend to favor being far less charming and witty than I think I am.  Sipping on my usually non-alcoholic beverage and sharing adorable anecdotes of Pounce’s latest antics with anyone who dares approach.”

The elf chuckled fondly.  **‘Ah… so you are the _Anders_  of the party then?’**

Anders joined him in laughter.  “Exactly!”

 **‘I should like to think I would be daring enough to approach you.’**   A frankly goofy grin spread across the mage’s face as his heart fluttered wildly.  His fingers carded through Pounce’s fur with a contented sigh, the cat’s claws kneading lightly at his chest as his small body vibrated- **‘Anders, are you… purring?’**

The mage huffed a laugh and scratched behind the cat’s twitching ear.  “Ha, not this time.  That’s Pounce.  He’s currently lying on my chest and trying to purr me into oblivion.”

**‘What kind of cat is he?’**

The corner of his mouth lifted in a crooked grin.  “You know, you already made up with me, you don’t need to pretend to care about my cat.”

**‘I admit I do not know much about cats… but he is important to you, so I should like to learn.’**

Anders blinked at the elf’s touchingly candid answer.  “He- he’s an orange tabby.”

**‘Tabby, is that… the kind with the stripes?’**

“Yes, the kind with the stripes.”  The mage answered with a laugh before adopting a decidedly sour expression.  “Just tell me you don’t have a dog!  My ex had two!  And they were mabari, so it was really more like 4 with how bloody big they are.  In fact most of my ex’s have been dog people…”

A thoughtful hum met the mage’s ears.  **‘I have some good news and some bad news for you Anders.’**

“Sweet Maker preserve me…”

**‘I do not have a dog, but I am in fact… a dog person.’**

“Noooo!”  Anders lamented dramatically.  “What’s so great about dogs?!  They slobber and drool, are generally smelly, they chew up your things, they are empirically less fluffy and adorable, the list just goes on really.”

Despite their discovered difference in opinion, there was still a smirk in his voice as he spoke.  **‘Well, to address your points in order, many would argue that slobbering and drooling are one in the same, and while it is unfortunate, this is generally not a deal breaker when compared with the companionship a dog provides.  If you bathe a dog regularly its smell will generally not become too offensive.  Chewing can be corrected with behavioral training, and I have been led to believe that cats tend to destroy property just as often with their claws.  And lastly, it may surprise you to learn that fluffiness and adorableness are not on the top of everyone’s priority list in a pet, but even if it were, I submit to you… Orlais, the lead exporter of fluffy and adorable dogs.’**

“Alright, I will give you points for so ardently defending your beliefs, even if they’re  _wrong_ …” Anders answered with mock seriousness, smiling at the elf’s faint scoff on the other end of the line, “…but have you considered… kittens?  Nothing cuter.”

**‘I see your kittens and raise you puppies.’**

A bright burst of laughter broke forth from Anders’ smiling lips at the elf’s completely deadpan delivery.  “I can see this is going to be an Elandrin & Adalene type of affair.  Alas, will our two worlds ever be one?!”

**‘I have taken the first step in noting that a tabby is the stripy one.  The next move is yours, if you dare take it.’**

“Fair enough, I will admit that puppies are rather cute, what with the floppy ears and paws that look 3 times too big for their bodies.”  Instantly feeling like a traitor, Anders pursed his lips and addressed Pounce directly.  “Aren’t they cute Pounce, even you could admit that puppies are cute can’t you?  But you’re cuter, aren’t you Pounce, aren’t yooou?  Who’s my handsome man?  _You_ are!  Yes you are!”

 **‘I can see I am up against some stiff competition.’**   The elf muttered, almost _grumbled_ really.

“Are you jealous of my cat?”  Anders teased with a grin.

**‘…perhaps _I_ wish to be your handsome man.’**

Anders’ mouth ran dry and he was sure his entire face was beet red.  _You are._   He longed to say it, but fear held his tongue.  Less than half an hour ago he’d convinced himself that this had been nothing but a job for the other man, and now here he was ready to profess his feelings for him.  _Slow down Anders, don’t get your heart broken again._   “Maker, the things you say.  Did you take some sort of course in flirting to take this job?”  He nervously mumbled instead, his question trailing off in an awkward laugh.

 

* * *

 

**‘Maker, the things you say.  Did you take some sort of course in flirting to take this job?’**

Fenris frowned at the mage’s response, or rather non-response to his apparently failed attempt at baring his heart.  Then again, he supposed he deserved the brush off, deserved _worse_ , for how he had hurt Anders.  Was it any surprise he would prefer his cat?  The elf sighed in defeat and answered the mage’s question honestly.  “No, though I imagine it would have been helpful the first few weeks.”

**‘Were you nervous?  You always seem so cool and collected, it’s hard to imagine you scared of anything.’**

A grim smirk twitched to Fenris’ lips.  “I was a nervous wreck, so much so I nearly quit after the first call in fact.  Luckily I was able to pick it up quickly enough in time.”

**‘How long have you been doing this?’**

It was disconcerting to be the subject of the other man’s scrutiny, the elf far more used to being the one doing the asking.  He swallowed thickly and pressed on.  No more lies by omission and half-truths, if Anders wished to learn about him, he would tell him all he could.  “Not terribly long.  A little less than a year, shortly after I arrived in Kirkwall.”

He could hear the human stroke his stubbled chin thoughtfully.  **‘How exactly does one get into this sort of business?  Do you answer a classified?’**

“Some do, though I… came upon it differently.”  Fenris bit his lip, dreading what the next question would inevitably be.

 **‘Listen, we don’t have to talk about this if you don’t want.  I’m sorry, it’s really none of my business-‘**   His voice was so soft and kind, so beautiful.  Fenris let out the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.  _Anders would never push me, he never has.  He has only ever shared of himself while I took and took from him.  Fasta vass, I’ve been such a fool…_

“No it- it is alright.  You have bared yourself to me countless times while I have continually failed to reciprocate.  I will share this part of my past with you.  I trust you.”  The elf took a deep shuddering breath and continued softly.  “When I left Tevinter, or rather escaped, I had no marketable skills.  The Imperium has some of the finest educational institutes in the world, or so I am told, but only for those who can afford them.  Most elves are kept as ‘indentured servants’ for the predominantly mage upper class.  We are still little more than slaves toiling under a different title.  They need to keep us dumb and easy to control, much like cattle, and just as likely to start a revolt.  Therefore, when I came to this city I- I could not read.”  Fenris closed his eyes and swallowed thickly as he awaited Anders’ reaction to one of his greatest shames.

 **‘That’s awful!  They don’t even provide elementary education for the lower classes?!’**   Fenris was bolstered by Anders’ incredulous reaction, clearly seeing his unwilling ignorance as a failing of the Imperium.

“They do not.  Though even those that are fortunate enough to be literate would find little use for it.  There is nothing to read in the Imperium but propaganda praising the Archon or glorifying the regime.  I am given to understand it does not make for engaging literature.”

**‘ _Maker_ that’s terrible.  So what did you do?’**

“I knew no skilled craft, and I needed a GED and work visa for any sort of legitimate employment.  So I sought… illegitimate ventures.”  He swallowed and took a calming breath, “I- I began advertising my services as a prostitute.”  Fenris flinched at Anders’ gasp on the other end of the line, not sure if it were borne of shock or disgust.  He quickly continued before his fear and shame stopped him.  “It sickened me to do so.  I am not overly fond of being touched by those I am not close with, so the thought of such intimacy with a stranger was… more than unpleasant, but I felt I had no choice.  I needed coin to survive, and I was no stranger to the… _mechanics_ of the act, thanks to my former ‘employer’s’ _demands_ of me…”

Another gasp, this one almost coming out a sob.  **‘I- I’m so sorry you were ever put in that position.  I can’t imagine… Maker that must have been terrible for you.’**

While he certainly didn’t fancy being pitied, Fenris couldn’t help but smile softly at the other man’s concern.  Anders did not think ill of him, and that was all that mattered.  “I had never been more frightened than the night I was to meet with my first client.  However, the Maker saw fit to smile upon me.  When I showed up at the agreed upon time in a seedy hourly motel, I found my client to be a beautiful woman, which was a welcome surprise all things considered.  At the very least I was less likely to be overpowered and injured… but I was still hesitant.  She sensed it right away, and rather than become angry or attempting to force me, she proclaimed she would buy my services for the entire night.  I stood there baffled as she put a package of popcorn in the microwave, patted the bed beside her and turned on the television.  We then proceeded to have a marathon viewing of the Dragon Age trilogy.”

Fenris couldn’t help but smile at the surprised laughter that bubbled up from the mage.  **‘What?!  Y-you’re joking!’**

“I am not.”

**‘That’s _brilliant_!  Which one was your favorite?’**

“They were all rather fascinating, as Tevinter’s recounting of the time period is vastly different, though I am told the movies are closer to the truth, despite the more fantastical elements.”

**‘Yes, I doubt the Champion could really turn into a Dragon, as much as she probably wanted to.’**

The elf smirked.  “Agreed.  Though unrealistic shapeshifting aside, I believe I liked the second film the most.  It lacked the epic scale of the first and third instalments, but its more intimate setting and complex cast of characters drew me in.”

**‘That one’s my favorite too!  So you spent all night watching Dragon Age and didn’t end up having sex at all?’**

“Oh… we had sex.”  Fenris chuckled along with Anders’ bark of laughter.  “Around the fourth too many blighted ending of the third film I was actually the one to initiate it.  She had been so kind and patient with me, never once pushing or expecting anything of me… I wanted to give her something in return for her kindness.  Afterword, she handed me a business card and told me that with a voice like mine, if I could talk about sex even half as well as I could… ahem… perform the act, then I would be the highest payed phone sex operator in Thedas.  The rest, as they say, is history.”

Anders let out a wistful sigh.  **‘That’s got to be the most romantic prostitution related story I’ve ever heard.’**

“You have heard many then?”  Fenris said with a dry smirk.

**‘My friend, the one I said works at that bar, she treats herself to sex the way other women treat themselves to a manicure or a day at the spa.  In fact… your story sounds like _exactly_ the sort of thing she would do.  You know, she was the one who gave me the card to call this hotline… if it _was_ her… it feels a bit like fate doesn’t it?’**

“Fate?”  Fenris smiled fondly, “You are something of a romantic aren’t you Anders?”

 **‘I suppose I am.’**   He sounded a bit embarrassed, and Fenris delighted in imagining his cheeks heating to a lovely shade of pink.  **‘I’m sure it must seem a silly trait for a grown man, and Maker knows my love life has been anything but a fairy tale…’**

The elf frowned as Anders’ tone turned melancholy and trailed off.  “Anything but a fairy tale?”

 **‘Well, maybe one of those really old depressing ones from the Anderfels where everyone catches the blight and dies at the end.  Naïve and silly man falls for charming bad boy and is somehow shocked when he cheats.  It was pathetic really, how much I’d look forward to him coming home, even when that started to be later and later, or how I’d tell myself it was probably just a _friend_ he was always texting, or how I’d leave him stupid little love notes in his lunch, even though he _never_ reciprocated, even though he probably just laughed about them with the blighted Templar he was fucking!  _Fuck_ \- why didn’t I _see_ it?!’**   The mage’s voice had risen nearly to a shout in his distress, and Fenris’ heart clenched to reach out through the phone and touch him… hold him.  Then possibly find the location of this ‘charming bad boy’ and beat him senseless.

“His deception is hardly your fault.  I am sorry he treated you that way.  I would h-“  The elf coughed, nearly forgetting himself in his efforts to sooth Anders’ pain.  “Ahem, that is to say, you deserve someone who would have treasured you, treated you properly and written you notes in return, complete with little doodles of cats in the corners to- to make you smile.  You deserve someone better Anders.”

 **‘Th-thank you.  I always liked to _think_ so… thank you.’**   It sounded as though the mage were trying desperately to hold back tears that the elf wished nothing more than to wipe away.  To kiss away.  Fenris clenched his fists uselessly, feeling utterly helpless with a city in-between them.  **‘Anyway, despite all that, I never could quite give up the foolish hope that happy endings still exist.’**

“It is not foolish at all.  Your optimism and ability to see the inherent good in people are some of the qualities I admire most about you.  They are qualities I struggle with.”

Anders laughed soft and warm, and Fenris liked to think that a smile once again graced his golden features.  **‘That’s me, the silly romantic waiting for my Prince to come… ready to be someone’s Knight in shining armor.’**

Fenris gulped nervously to swallow down his fear as he gathered the courage to express his feelings once more.  “I am certainly no Prince, nor am I in need of rescue by a Knight in shining armor… however, I- I have recently become aware of my pressing need for a… a mage in a ridiculous kitten shirt…”

The mage in question gasped, and Fenris held his breath.  **‘Well I- I’m a rather good mage, if I do say so myself, and you’re unlikely to find a larger collection of ridiculous kitten shirts.  So… do I submit a resume, or maybe some references-‘**

“You are hired.”  Fenris said with a bright smile, his heart simultaneously soaring with relief and pounding with excitement at Anders' response, the mage’s voice thick with emotions that matched his own.  “Anders, do you know what I would do, where I there with you now?”

Unbeknownst to him, Anders’ heart was pounding in time with Fenris’ halfway across the city, the shyly murmured genuine affection they shared bridging the gap between them better than any dirty talk ever could.  “W-what?”  He whispered.

The elf closed his eyes and imagined a modest flat housing an old battered sofa and adorned with more cat paraphernalia than was probably accurate, his beautiful golden Anders shining front and center.  Fenris smirked.  “I would pet Ser Pounce-a-Lot.”  Anders laughed brightly at the elf’s unexpected answer before Fenris continued softly, “After all, you were his mage first, so it only seems right I ingratiate myself to him if I intend to appoint you to the position.”

“You are a clever man.  Just be careful though, my hand is lying on his back, you _may_ brush it by mistake.”  The mage teased, his cheeks burning and his heart racing as the scene played out behind his closed eyes.

“Indeed, in fact, I fear I am in very real danger of forgetting my mission entirely, the moment my fingers touch yours.”  Both men’s hands shifted as one, their own fingers tangling gently together.  “I would thread my fingers with yours atop your sleeping tabby cat and look into your stunning amber eyes.  You are so beautiful Anders, more so than you will likely ever realize.  I would reach out to brush your lovely golden hair behind your ear.”  Anders gasped as his own fingers ghosted against his temple to tuck away a lock of hair.  “I would- may I kiss you?”

Blood was pounding in his ears, every fiber of his being on fire and screaming ‘YES’.  Anders squirmed on the sofa and bit his lip.  “I- I thought we weren’t-“

“Just a kiss.  You are free to say no…”

 _“Yes_.”

“I would lean forward and press my lips to yours, soft, gentle, not intended to seduce, but to convey my gratitude for you giving me a second chance… to convey my affection for you.”

Anders panted, completely overwhelmed with emotion.  He used the last fraying strands of his sanity to speak in a trembling voice.  “You said once, it’s your job to be what I want… which right now… is romance?”  He had to be sure this time, had to be certain this wasn’t simply part of the job.

Fenris smiled, his thumb twitching with longing to caress Anders’ flushed cheek.  “I also recall saying that I realize you only desire that I be _honest_.  That you find the truth to be romantic is, however, an added bonus.”

“Kiss me again, _please_.”

“ _Always_.  I would weave my fingers through your hair, cradling your face as I claim your lips.”

“I would run my fingers along your jaw as you kiss me, move my lips against yours, smile against your mouth.”

“You’re so lovely, so beautiful Anders.  I caress your lips with mine, drawing you in and deepening the kiss.”

Anders shivered and bit down a soft longing moan, “Our tongues meet and it sends a shiver down my spine.  You’re wonderful, perfect, everything I’ve ever wanted- I- I wish you were here.”

“As do I.  I would kiss you, hold you… stay up all night talking and snuggling with you and your cat.”  Fenris trembled with barely restrained emotion, Anders’ soft huff of laughter in response to his surprisingly innocent plan making the elf’s heart skip a beat.

Anders bit his lip until he drew blood to stop himself from blurting out his address and begging the elf to show up at his doorstep.  With his heart racing, his stomach fluttering, his cock steadily filling and Pounce still obliviously sleeping away on his chest… Maker it was too much.  He felt himself falling again.  Too hard and too fast.  Too _wonderful_.  “I- I think we should leave it at that… for now.”

Fenris drew in a shuddering breath, forcing his tense frame to relax and his heart to calm.  “Yes, I- perhaps we should.”

“It’s not- I mean- I’m definitely enjoying this.  But, if we keep going… well, I’d feel rather guilty waking Pounce to lock him in the privy.”  That was only one of many arguments his conflicted mind and body had both for and against continuing the conversation, but it seemed the easiest to convey in his currently flustered state.

Fenris chuckled warmly at Anders’ worrying over his cat.  It was both frustrating and adorable, and Fenris would have him no other way.  “Understandable.  But… I will hear from you again?”  He asked, uncaring if his hopeful tone betrayed the fact that he had shifted to the edge of his seat.

Anders laughed and softly replied.  “Are you kitten me?”

Fenris wasn’t certain he had ever smiled so brightly.  “Goodnight then… my mage.”

“Goodnight.”  Anders closed his eyes and clutched the phone to his chest above his racing heart even after pushing the end call button.  _His mage… my love._  


	5. Sparklefingers

Anders’ fingers drummed restlessly against his flannel clad knee.  _No need to rush, don’t want to seem too needy or desperate… even if you are-_   The mage groaned and stood, his feet absently starting up a circuit between the living room and kitchen.  Three days had passed since they had reconciled, since Anders had gone from being _mage_ to “my mage”.  Three days of soaring elation followed gradually by gnawing doubt.  The elf didn’t seem like the type of man to use such an endearment without meaning it… but it was his job to be his client’s fantasy.  Given Anders’ track record, having someone accept and love him for who and what he was certainly felt like a fantasy… and what was he but a client?  _My mage._

He took a deep calming breath, ceasing his pacing long enough to clutch the kitchen counter.  _He’s given me every reason to believe him, told me things he wouldn’t tell a ‘client’… even if he still hasn’t told me his name._   Anders huffed and pushed away from the counter to plop heavily onto the sofa once more, the aging furniture groaning in protest.  His hair tie fell to join what was likely countless others between the cushions as he ran his fingers through his hair.  Was that really too much to ask?  To give him a name, the color of his hair, his eyes?  Something to tell him it wasn’t just his imagination that there was more between them than a blighted phone bill? 

Pounce saw fit to interrupt his internal crisis by jumping up to crowd his way onto his owner’s lap.  Anders let out a surprised huff of laughter and gladly gave into the feline’s demands for attention.  He smiled as Pounce’s furry little face rubbed against his palm, though soon he found his gaze drifting down to his phone, back to Pounce… then the door to the privy.  Anders sighed and scratched the cat’s chin in a feeble attempt to alleviate his guilt.  Here he was bitching about how he didn’t want to be seen as just another client to the elf, yet here he was, itching to lock poor Pounce in the privy and pick up where they left off last time.

Only it wasn't just sex, at least for Anders it wasn't.  It was hearing his voice and feeling his heart flutter each time the elf laughed at one of his silly cat puns or called him beautiful.  It was feeling a closeness with him, an intimacy that he hadn’t felt in ages, and certainly not with Garrett.  Even if their phone calls never went beyond talking and flirting while they continued to learn about one another, Anders imagined he would still be more than satisfied… but deep down he supposed he’d always been greedy.  Even as he savored their growing friendship, a significant part of him still yearned for the physical connection they once shared, false as it was.  Anders gathered Pounce in his arms and crossed the flat with quick determined steps to unceremoniously dump the cat on the bathroom floor, quickly latching the door before he could dart out again.  _I’ll just call, we’ll talk, and we’ll see where it goes.  If we end up having sex… well… best to be prepared._   “Sorry Pounce.”  He muttered, wincing at the feline’s angry hiss.  Though Pounce’s wrath was fearsome indeed, it was likely nothing a tin of Fancy Feast wouldn’t fix.  If only Anders’ agitated emotional state could be so easily remedied.

The only thing that stood a chance of soothing his pining heart was the warm balm of the elf’s velvet voice.  Anders settled back on the sofa and breathed deep, then pressed number 7 on speed dial.   _Hard Up in Hightown on blighted speed dial… Maker have I got it bad._   His eyes shuttered closed as the phone rang…

**‘Hello?’**

Anders’ heart skipped a beat just as surely as always when the other man’s voice rumbled across the line.  “Hello yourself.”

 **‘Anders!’**   The elf gasped faintly in what Anders hoped was pleasant surprise.  **‘I had not expected to hear from you again so soon.’**

“Yeah, I usually wait until payday, but I had a bit of coin left over since I hadn’t been calling for a while, and well, I couldn’t wait that long.  Is… is that alright?  I mean- if you have other-“ his throat bobbed as he swallowed nervously, “Other clients that call this night of the week-”

**‘Of course it is alright.  I have missed hearing your voice my mage.’**

Anders breathed a sigh of relief.  “Me too, with your voice I mean… because, you know, I hear _my_ voice all the time…”  He felt his cheeks heat at the other man’s answering chuckle.  “And there I go again, rambling.  So…” Anders gulped nervously as he cast his mental net for a graceful segue to voice his desires.  Somehow ‘You really mean a lot to me and I respect you and I think I’m in love with you but I also want you like crazy and I’d really like you to get me off but not because I’m paying you but because you want me too’ just wasn’t going to cut it.  “Ah… what have you been up to?”  _Andraste’s flaming knickers what was that?!_

Silence tinged with a distinctly bewildered air met the mage’s inane question.  Eventually the elf gingerly cleared his throat and answered.  **‘Directly before you called, I was on another call.’**   Anders winced at the reminder the elf talked to others like this, called others beautiful, lovely… my mage?   **‘Though in between my work… I have been studying for my high school equivalency test.’**   He continued shyly, barely above a whisper.

Anders’ breath caught at the other man’s admission.  Though the embarrassment in his voice was audible, he had trusted Anders with the truth.  The mage beamed.  “That’s wonderful!  I’m sure you’ll do brilliantly!”

**‘I am far less certain of that, but I thank you for the vote of confidence.’**

“Why shouldn’t I be certain?  You speak blighted Qunlat, and since you’re from the Imperium I can only assume you speak Tevene?”

**‘Correct.’**

“That’s impressive!  You’re bloody _trilingual_ , and your vocabulary and grammar are world’s better than mine!  Just because you didn’t have the opportunity to get a formal education doesn’t mean you aren’t incredibly intelligent!”  Anders gushed enthusiastically.

 **‘I- that is- you- thank you.’**   The elf stammered, his uncharacteristically flustered and inarticulate response warming Anders’ heart as he imagined a delicate flush rising to the tips of his ears.  The elf continued candidly.  **‘I suppose my reading comprehension is coming more easily as I practice, though I still do not read very quickly.  However, I admit to feeling rather out of my depth when it comes to the maths and sciences…’**

“I can help you, if you’d like?”

A soft huff of bemused laughter crackled faintly through the line.  **‘You would pay 5 silver a minute to help me with my homework?’**

There was a teasing lilt to the other man’s voice, but Anders replied seriously, a soft smile upon his lips.  “Of course I would.  You’ve done so much for me, if I can help you with an equation or two, I figure it’s the least I can do.”  His smile twitched into a playful smirk, “And besides, maybe trigonometry and stoichiometry really turn me on.”

**‘Perhaps we can put on some music and balance equations by candle light?’**

Anders laughed fondly and absently ran his free hand through his unbound hair as their comfortable banter turned flirtatious.  “You joke, but I’d do it.”

He could hear the smile in the elf’s voice as he responded.  **‘The equations… or the music and candles?’**

“Either… both.  Anything, as long as it’s with you.”

**‘And… will Ser Pounce-a-Lot be joining us this evening?’**

Anders’ cheeks flushed, knowing full well what the elf was really asking with the seemingly benign inquiry.  “He- ah- he’s in the privy.”

**‘Mmm, then I can think of something we could be doing that is far more enjoyable than studying the periodic table.’**

“What could be more enjoyable than that?!”  The mage gasped with false indignance before adopting a sultry tone, “Just think, I could ask you if you’re made of copper, because I _Cu_ and I together… but _then_ you might realize what an incredible nerd I am.”

Anders found himself rewarded with a huff of laughter from the other man.  **‘Because your kitten shirts certainly never gave that away.’**

“Speaking of, I’ve got a new shirt for you tonight…”

**‘A new one?  You spoil me.’**

“Only the finest for you.  I actually ordered this one online from Par Vollen.  It reminded me of you, since you speak Qunlat.  It’s got a kitty with cute little Qunari horns, and his tail is all poofed up while he zaps a mouse with lightening from his little paw, because he’s a… Saare _paws_.”

 **‘Do not tell me that even the Qunari have fallen to the baffling allure of the cat pun.** ’  Though he was clearly attempting to sound put upon, the smile in his voice was unmistakable.

“Our forces can’t be stopped, you might as well join us.”

**‘…nev _purr_.’**

Anders laughed brightly at the elf’s unexpected response.  “You’ve been practicing for me haven’t you?”

**‘It cannot be helped, given how often I think about you.  You drive me to distraction my mage.’**

“What sort of distractions?”

**‘I am sure you can imagine.’  
**

Anders grinned and ran a hand lazily down his chest.  “I could, but I want to hear you say it.  These calls always end up being about me… I want to hear what you fantasize about.”

A sigh whooshed softly across the line.  **‘Anders, this is meant to be an experience catered to your desires, as you are-‘**

“Paying?”  Anders finished the other man’s sentence with a defeated sigh.

 **‘…yes.’**   The softly uttered word was filled with a tangible sadness that matched the mage’s own.

Golden eyebrows furrowed with stubborn determination.  “So what?  Think of it this way, my desire is to please _you_ this time.  Sex is- well- it’s meant to be a partnership, give and take, and all I’ve been doing is taking...”  Anders’ impassioned argument trailed off weakly, his bottom lip taking up residence between his teeth as he softly voiced his underlying fears, “And maybe that’s selfish, to think that you fantasize about me when you could have anyone… but I- I need to know it’s not just me… that you want this too… want me too.”

 **‘It is not just you.’**   Faint rustling sounded, as though the elf had run a hand through his hair.  **‘I deal in elaborate and grandiose fantasies every night, so when I dream of you, which I assure you I do quite often, I am afraid my fantasies are rather mundane.  I imagine the feel of your hands on me, the warmth of your skin, your soft hair sliding between my fingers.  I dream about tasting you, your skin, your lips.  Losing myself in your honey brown eyes, seeing you smile, breathing in your scent, a different heady combination of aromas every time, as I will never have any way of truly knowing…’** His voice cracked faintly and trailed off.

“I do the same thing you know… with your eyes.  I want so badly to look into your eyes, but I-“ Anders swallowed down the emotion causing his voice to crack, “I don’t know the color of your’s, so they’re different every time…”

 **‘ _Anders_.’**   He breathed with such longing that Anders’ heart ached.  **‘I want you, that is no fantasy.’**

Anders gulped and felt his skin flush at the elf’s confession.  “Then please, let me take care of you this time.  Let me make you feel as good as you make me feel.”

 **‘If you are certain…’**   The man sounded honestly surprised by the offer to focus on his pleasure, and Anders wasn’t sure if it warmed his heart or broke it.  **‘I would ask for nothing more than what you would do, were you here with me tonight.’**

Anders smiled and breathed a sigh of relief that the elf had taken him up on his offer.  “So no 20 meter tall Anders then?”

The answering laughter the mage received definitely fell into the heartwarming category.  **‘Perhaps another time.  Tonight however, I want you as you are my mage.’** Anders’ lips turned down slightly as the elf’s voice took on a tight and almost resigned quality, **‘I only ask that… please use your magic sparingly.’**   The elf took a shuddering breath.  **‘I am no great fan of sadomasochism, but I shall bear it if-‘**

The mage’s eyes widened in alarm.  “Wait!  Wait, stop!  First of all, I wasn’t planning on using _any_ magic!  I know you’re not comfortable with it, and I would never use magic on a non-consenting partner. And second, what in the world would my magic have to do with S &M?!”

 **‘I- I did not mean to offend.  It is my experience that all mages use their magic during sex.  Is that not the case?’** The elf sounded honestly confused, and Anders’ frowned, not because of the elf’s misconceptions, but at the implications they gave rise to.

He took a calming breath, unconsciously calling on his training as a doctor to patiently, if not somewhat clinically, attempt to ease the other man’s anxiety.  “It’s true that most mages have at least experimented with magic during sex.  It’s something that comes naturally to us, like an extension of ourselves, so it feels right to use it to please our partner.  A fair number of mages enjoy magic during sex, myself included, but only if my partner is into it.  My partner’s comfort is the most important thing to me, and I certainly don’t _need_ it to get off.”

 **‘You enjoy- but… magic is painful…’**   He trailed off, his uncertainty tinged with worry.

Anders’ heart broke for what the other man must have endured in Tevinter to give him such a skewed impression.  “It doesn’t have to be.  I mean, I suppose there are some spells a person could use for S&M, but only if that’s what both partners want!  On the occasions I use magic in bed, it’s only ever to _heighten_ my partner’s pleasure.  Maker’s Balls, what did that bastard do to you?”  He murmured the question nearly to himself, not truly expecting, or even sure he wanted an answer.

**‘Danarius, he- he held me down with magic.  I could not move, could not make a sound, and it- it burned…’**

“Maker, no… _no_.  That’s not how magic should be used, not for sex, not _ever_!”  Anders trembled, his stomach rolling in disgust at the other man’s former abuser.  For the first time he could begin to understand why someone would develop a hatred for mages. 

**‘It is… difficult to imagine magic being pleasurable.’**

“It can be amazing!  But it’s completely understandable if you’re not comfortable with it.  A lot of people aren’t, a lot of _mages_ aren’t!  I’d never try to force magic on you-“ 

**‘But if it were not forced, if I wanted it… you would enjoy using it?’**

The mage wasn’t certain he liked where the other man’s train of thought was headed.  “It’s not about what I would enjoy, it’s about pleasing you, _that’s_ what I would enjoy.  I wouldn’t feel comfortable using magic on you, knowing you weren’t comfortable.”

 **‘It is for that reason that I am considering it.** ’  A deep breath whooshed gently across the line before the elf continued in a soft contemplative tone, almost as though it were half spoken to himself.  **‘I mean it when I say I want you as you are Anders.  I must admit, even after accepting that you are a mage… it is easier for me to pretend it is not so.  That does you an injustice.  Your magic is a part of you… and I want you.  I do not wish for you to feel as though you have to hold parts of yourself back on my account.’**

A watery smile twitched to the mage’s lips, “That’s- I… thank you.  But you don’t need to worry about me, I really don’t need to use magic.  I’ve got a perfectly good pair of hands and lips to work with, not to mention a handsome elf.  It’s alright really-“

 **‘Show me?’**   He cut off the mage’s worried sputtering and softly continued, **‘Fantasy, by its very nature, is meant to be a safe outlet to experience new things, whether they be exotic, unrealistic… or frightening.  I want to do this, not because you are a mage… but because you are _my_ mage.  I trust you Anders, and… I care for you.  I know that you would not seek to hurt me, and that you would stop if I asked.’**

“Of course.”  Anders breathed, too stunned and humbled by the other man’s bravery to say much else.

**‘Then please, show me?’**

Anders closed his eyes and breathed deep, soothing down the thick emotions that threatened to overwhelm him at the incredible trust the elf was showing him.  “Alright.  If you’re sure that’s what you want, I’d be happy to show you… but first, we’ll need a few things.’

 

* * *

 

**‘…But first, we’ll need a few things.’**

Fenris quirked an eyebrow.  “I had not realized this endeavor would require props.”

 **'Well, if I were there we wouldn’t need them, but since I can’t be...’**  

Fenris smiled softly as he could hear the other man take his lip between his teeth.  “What do I need?”

 **‘Hmmm, an ice cube, some sort of lotion or massage oil, and ah… have you-‘** the mage coughed nervously on the other end of the line, **‘I don’t suppose you’ve got a vibrator?’**

“A vibrator?  What sort of person do you take me for?”  Fenris said in his very best affronted voice, growing more comfortable as they fell back into easy banter.  A grin curled onto his lips as the mage began sputtering apologies, hopefully while blushing a lovely shade of pink.  Anders had not suddenly turned into a cruel and fearsome Magister the second he had been given permission to unleash his magic, as some small part of him had feared, and there was little harm a cube of ice or sex toy wielded by his own hand could do to him.  Fenris smirked and took pity on his charmingly flustered mage, “I am a phone sex operator… I possess no less than _five_ vibrators… for reference of course.”

Anders laughed with audible relief, some of the nervous tension seeming to leave him as he continued.  **‘Ever the consummate professional.’**

Heat rose to the tips of his ears as he picked out a vibrator loosely based on human anatomy from his collection and responded dryly.  “I try.”  Before long Fenris stood surveying an ice cube (resting neatly on a coaster), scented massage oil and a bright blue vibrator lined up on his coffee table. “I have the items.”  He said as he settled back on the leather sofa, his stomach fluttering with nerves, and to his surprise, a healthy bit of excitement.  “What would you have me do with them my mage?” 

The human cleared his throat awkwardly in an attempt to adopt a deeper more seductive tone.  **‘You don’t need to do anything.  I’ve got you...’** Fenris gave him credit for making it a good sentence and a half before falling back into the familiar rambling that he knew and loved, **‘Well, I mean, you’ll obviously have to touch yourself since I’m not there, but I mean, I’ll- ah- lead?  Is that the right term?  Lead?’**

Fenris couldn’t help the huff of laughter that escaped at his mage’s fussing.  “It is as good a term as any.”

**‘Oh!  And just because you don’t have to do anything, that doesn’t mean you _can’t_!  What I mean is, nothing I do, with magic or otherwise- nothing will hold you down.  You can touch me if you want, or not, but either way you’re free to stop me or- or get away if you need to…’**

If any doubts had remained about this endeavor, they were all wiped away by the raw care and concern shining through in Anders’ gentle tone.  “Thank you.  Your consideration is greatly appreciated.”  His lips twitched into a smirk, “Though I must ask, if I am free to do nothing but lie back and enjoy your ministrations, what will _you_ get out of the deal?”

**‘I’ll be giving you pleasure, well, _hopefully_ anyway.  That’s all I need.’**

“Anders, I am willing to explore this path with you… more than willing.  But I will not allow you to pay for the privilege of getting me off while neglecting yourself.”

It sounded as though the man’s lip had once again found its way between his teeth.  **‘Hmmm, then how about this?  I’ll touch myself the way I’m describing touching you.  That way, you can hear how good magic can feel when I inevitably make my patented embarrassing sex noises.’**

“I am rather fond of your sex noises.”  The elf replied with a wicked grin.

**‘Well then, I’ll be sure to be obnoxiously loud about it for you, wake up all the neighbors, maybe get the Guard involved…’**

“It may ruin the mood, should you get arrested.”

**‘Fair point.  Alright, so maybe not _that_ loud, but still sufficiently embarrassing and at least marginally sexy-‘**

Fenris smirked and shook his head fondly.  “I do believe my ice cube is melting.”

 **‘Shit!  Sorry!  So- ah…’** he cleared his throat awkwardly, **‘What are you wearing?’**

“I am wearing a pajama set with a button down top and trousers.”

**‘Flannel?’**

"Black silk.”  Anders’ appreciative hum reverberated across the line.  “I like to think I can still surprise you from time to time.”

**‘And a very pleasant surprise it is!  Rather puts my flannel trousers to shame…’**

“More plaid weave?”

 **‘No, it’s a print with- ah- withsushionit.’**   He muttered quickly before coughing and pressing on a little too eagerly.  **‘Can I unbutton your top?’**

Fenris blinked.  “You… may.  So to summarize, you are wearing… sushi print pajama trousers… and a Qunari cat shirt?”

Another adorable little nervous cough sounded.  **‘…it’s laundry day.’**

The elf laughed in earnest.  “Lucky me.”

Anders growled faintly, the guttural sound stirring something low in Fenris’ belly.  **‘I’m unbuttoning the buttons of your sexy silk jammies and kissing that smart mouth of yours.’**

“Mmmm, I grab your sushi print arse and pull you closer.”  Fenris’ lips trembled with exertion as he fought to hold back the laughter that threatened to break free.

 **‘Bastard!’**   The mage laughed, his fond tone turning the insult into an endearment, **‘Can you at least _try_ to take my ridiculous attempts seriously?!’**

Fenris smiled and slowly unbuttoned his pajama top, shivering with pleasure as the cool smooth fabric shifted against his skin and fell away.  “I am sorry Anders.  I assure you I am taking you seriously.  I feel you nimbly unbuttoning my top, your fingertips brushing warm against my skin.  What do you do now?”

He could nearly hear the mage smile.  **‘Are you in bed?’**

“I am on my couch.”

**‘Good choice.  I hope yours is more comfortable than mine.’**

Fenris smirked, “It is Antivan leather.”

Air whooshed across the speaker in a burst of static at the mage’s appreciative whistle.  **‘Swanky!  Alright, I’m kneeling between your legs while you lay on your fancy sofa, your shirt open and giving me a peek of that beautiful olive skin… let’s get that shirt off you.’**

“I am of the same mind in regards to your shirt, as charming as I find your Saara _paws_ to be.”

**‘You know, if the little guy left the Qun, that would make him an… A _paws_ tate.  Or if a demon possessed him, he’d be an… A _paw_ mination-’**

“Shirt.  Off.”  Fenris smiled at the hurried rustling on the other end of the line. 

 **‘Alright, alright, shirt is off.’**   Anders panted faintly, **‘Now come here and let me return the favor.’**

“I sit up and let my open shirt fall down my arms and toss it to the side, then reach up to tangle my hands in your hair.  Did you wear it down for me?”

 **‘I did.  Mmm, feels so good, you feel so good.  I’m running my hands along your back as I gladly let you pull me into another kiss.  I feel your muscles shift beneath your warm skin, you’re so beautiful.  I bend my head to kiss your neck, your shoulders, just revel in the feeling of having you in my arms…’**   A small moan, almost a purr, rumbled from Fenris’ chest at his mage’s tender description.  **‘Do you- are you sure you still want me to use magic?’**

Fenris took a breath and forced himself to give the question serious thought.  What they were sharing now was lovely, and Anders was proving himself quite capible thus far of leading the encounter.  Would the addition of magic take away from the enjoyment, or heighten it?  It was certainly out of his comfort zone, but so was this job once upon a time, so was reading not so long ago.  There was no safer way to explore this facet of intimacy with his mage, and even if it proved to be something he would rather not do again, if he did not try, he would never know.  After a lifetime of missed chances and denied opportunities, Fenris determined he could contend with fleeting discomfort far better than lingering regret.

Anders remained patiently silent while the elf deliberated, and that made his decision all the easier.  “Yes… I want to know all of you my mage.”

 **‘Ok,’** he let out a decidedly relieved sigh and continued softly in his soothing tenor, **‘I’m pulling on the Fade, drawing out fire energy.  There won’t be any actual fire, wouldn’t want to char your Antivan leather,’** he laughed awkwardly at his own joke, and Fenris’ lips twitched into a faint smile from the tight line they had unconsciously formed as he braced himself.  **‘It’s just to warm my hands.  Can I rub your back?’**

“You may.”  Fenris answered with a sigh, closing his eyes and relaxing in to the sofa, trying to imagine a soothing warmth along his shoulder blades and down his spine.

 **‘This bit is rather hard to replicate, as it’s hard to give a massage to yourself.’**   He chuckled softly.

“I have never received a massage, though I have been required to give them.”

 **‘That’s criminal.’**   He breathed with an audible frown.  **‘I wish I could give you a massage, magic or mundane, anything for an excuse to touch you and make you moan in bliss.  I’ll have you know I give _very_ good massages.’**

Fenris experimentally kneaded the corded muscles in his neck and shoulders, sighing softly as a measure of tension bled away.  If his clumsy attempt felt this good, Fenris could only imagine how wonderful Anders’ warm hands would feel melting away the stubborn knots he could not completely vanquish.  “You do not need an excuse, I would welcome your touch.”

 **‘I’m glad to hear that.  I’m smiling against your skin as I kiss my way down your chest, following my hands as I run them down your arms, smooth over your pecs down to your tight stomach… are-‘** he coughed lightly, **‘Are you alright with this?  I mean- are you comfortable?’**

“Yes Anders.”  He smiled to realize just how true his assurance was.  The elf leisurely ran his hands along his arms and torso, feeling boneless and warm, the flush of growing arousal rising to his skin serving to mimic the trails of fire the mage painted with his gentle fingertips.  “Please do not stop.”

Anders' laughter sounded out full of happiness and relief.  **‘Alright, think you’re ready for that ice cube?’**   Fenris murmured his affirmative and the mage continued, his voice pitched low and husky with desire.  **‘The faint scent of ash and burnt wood fades away as I call on ice magic-‘**

An unpleasant shiver ran down Fenris’ spine as the mage’s words brought a sensory memory to the forefront of his mind.  He was speaking before he could think to stop, “Danarius-“ Fenris cursed internally when his voice trembled on the name, “H- his magic always smelled of blood...”  He confessed, his voice trailing off in a feeble whisper.

 **‘Maker, that’s not a good sign.’**   Anders hissed softly.  **‘My magic never smells like that.  It mostly smells of the elements, or herbs for some healing spells.’**

Fenris appreciated Anders’ willingness to stop and listen, to explain and ease his fears.  He sighed and closed his eyes, pushing cold dark thoughts of Danarius away to focus on the golden warmth of his mage.  “What does your ice magic smell like?”

**‘Hmmm, it’s crisp and clean, almost a noticeable absence of smell, and sort of… still?  Which I suppose is more of a feeling than a scent.  It’s- it’s like a snowy winter’s morning… if that makes sense…’**

Fenris smiled at the description his mage finally settled upon.  “It makes quite a bit of sense.”  His body relaxed fully into the sofa cushions as his lips twitched into a playful grin once more, “So you have removed my shirt and cast a blanket of winter over my apartment, I hope you have a plan in place to keep me warm?”

His teasing had the desired result of making Anders laugh.  **‘Oh I do… but I plan to make you shiver a bit first.’**   Fenris noted with pleasure that despite his mage’s plans, Anders very pointedly waited for the elf’s hum of agreement before continuing.  **‘My fingertips are coated in a thin layer of frost now.  I’m trailing my index finger across your lips, licking my own as I watch the ice melt against your mouth.’**

Fenris drew in a sharp breath as he brought the ice cube up to touch his bottom lip, a drop of cool water spilling into the heated cavern of his mouth, crisp and refreshing… like a winter’s morning.  His lips curled into a smile that he slowly traced with ice.

**‘I trail my finger down your chin and along the line of your throat.  Drops of water run down your neck and over the peak of your adam’s apple to pool in the hollow of your throat.  Can you feel it?’**

“Yes.”  Fenris shuddered, a shiver racing down his spine, the chill somehow converting to raw heat on its journey to curl low in his belly. 

 **‘I lick the puddle away, drink in the water warmed and flavored by your skin.’**   He heard the mage gulp and Fenris felt his cock twitch awake with rapidly growing interest.  **‘Fuck, you’re so sexy.’**

“Ah- so are you.  Anders, I- I want-“

**‘Anything.  Anything you want.’**

His mage breathed the words with reverence, and Fenris’ arousal roared to life.  “I want you- your hair.  Want to stroke your hair, how- how you like it.”

 **‘Mmmm please do.’**   Fenris could hear him shifting to move, nearly purring as strands of golden hair whispered over the phone’s speaker.  **‘Feels so good.  Love it when you run your fingers through my hair… my Fancy Steam Age Gentleman.’**

Fenris laughed with pleasant surprise at the admittedly silly nickname he found himself overjoyed to have re-earned.  He smirked and adopted a slightly more posh inflection.  “I do say my good Serah, I would be much obliged if you would continue.”

Anders’ bright laughter sounded out, and Fenris felt as though a puzzle he’d been working at for years had finally clicked into place.  Though he’d made his career out of the act of sex, he’d never truly known what it should be.  Some wanted roughness and dirty talk, some wanted saccharine sweetness, some even had a strange affinity for balloons… but none of it was truly _real_.  But with Anders… even while they were in different rooms, different flats, likely different blighted _districts_ in the city, this playful exploration and gentle affection they shared, this patience and trust they gave to one another, _this_ is what sex was meant to be. 

His mage’s voice drew him out of his thoughts, the lovely tenor ringing out over the swift pounding of his heart.  **‘With pleasure Serah.  I trail my cool fingertips down your sternum, leaving a stream of melted ice defining your pectoral muscles, circling underneath and up to tease your nipple.’**   Twin gasps sounded as Anders twirled a frosted fingertip around his own dusky pink nipple, Fenris following suit with his ice cube until the burnt umber bud stood at attention.  **‘Ah- fuck.  My nipples are so hard, are yours?’**

“Ah- yes- want you-“

 **‘You have me.  I’m yours- all yours…’**   The mage trailed off in a breathy moan.  **‘I trail my fingers lower, trace your abdominal muscles with drops of cool water, then follow them with my tongue, drink from the well of your belly button.’**   Fenris grunted and arched off the couch as a drop of chilled water dripped into his navel.  **‘Can I take off your trousers?’**

“Kaffas, _yes_!”  Fenris fairly slammed the nub of his former ice cube down onto the coffee table, coaster be damned, to hastily push the silk trousers past his hips and unceremoniously toss them to the ground.

The rapid burst of rustling fabric and panting breaths told Fenris that Anders was removing his trousers just as desperately.  **‘I’m so hard, fuck, want you.  Want to make you feel so good lo-‘**   The elf’s eyebrows furrowed as the other man bit off the last word with a groan.  **‘Are you- are you hard?’**

“Yes, yes Anders.  Ve- venhedis, so hard for you my mage.”  Fenris panted as he swiped a bead of moisture from his swollen head and wrapped his hand around the heated shaft.  A moan escaped his lips as he gently began to rock his hips into the circle of his fingers as he deftly stroked his member.

 **‘Sounds like you’re getting carried away without me, not that I can fault your enthusiasm, but I’ve got a few shivers to ring out of you yet.’**   Anders said with a breathy laugh.  Fenris growled with a mixture of frustration and arousal as he reluctantly pulled his hand away from his aching prick and picked up the melting ice cube once more to follow Anders’ lead.  **‘I run my fingers along your inner thighs, watching the beads of water flow down your legs to disappear into your pubic hair.  I lick away the goose bumps that rise up in the icy trail I’m making on your beautiful olive skin.’**

Fenris tossed his head and squirmed, his body racked with shudders of pleasure as his mage teased him with ice and tempted him with the promise of his tongue. 

Anders' breaths were coming quicker too, pleasure racing through his body and mounting right alongside him.  **‘Your cock is so hot, shit, so beautiful.  I don’t even need to touch you to melt the ice on my fingertips, just need to hold my hand above you and let the cold drops fall onto your hot prick.  Fuck- they run down your long hard cock and I catch the drops with my tongue, follow them back up to lap up the moisture at the tip that’s all your own.  Ah- want to taste you-‘**

“Yes, yes, Anders, my mage, my Anders, Anders, Ama- ah!“  A shocked moan burst past his lips at the endearment he had almost uttered, nearly spilling himself at the revelation that it would be accurate.  “ _Anders_ …”

**‘Oil- ah fuck- I call oil to my palm, use it to slick your cock and slide my hand slowly down your length.’**

Fenris managed to pull himself together enough to remove the cap and pour a measure of oil into the palm of his hand.  He shuddered in bliss when his hand finally wrapped around his throbbing cock.  “Dare I ask why- ah- why mages have such a spell?  Is it- ah _kaffas_ \- just for sex?”

Anders’ soft laughter joined the faint slick squelching sound that could be heard as the mage joined in stroking his own cock.  **‘The theory is that it was intend- ah _fuck_ \- intended to be used with a f- fire spell for marshal applications.  But with generations of young adult mages- _ah yes_ \- living in close proximity, well, we found a much more enjoyable use for it.’**

“In- indeed.”  Fenris huffed out a faint laugh that tapered off into a breathy moan.  “Ah- feels so good.  You feel so good.  I can’t- kaffas- I’m not sure I will last long enough to utilize that vibrator…”

**‘Oh fuck, I almost forgot.  Gotta- guh- gotta wait until you’re almost ready to come.  Tell me- tell me when you’re close.  Fuck, I’m so close, just thinking about my hand sliding up and down your big hard cock, seeing you lost to pleasure, pleasure I’m giving you- so handsome- beautiful- so fucking sexy.  I’m looking into your beautiful eyes, brown and blue and green and grey and bloody _purple_ I don’t care, they’re every color all at once and they’re so perfect you’re perfect…’**

“Anders- I- I can’t- ah-“  Fenris squirmed in bliss, the sofa squeaking softly as the leather shifted and stuck to the fine sheen of sweat coating his flushed skin. 

**‘Turn on the vibrator.  Ah- I’m calling on the Fade, it smells like rain as tiny sparks arc off my fingertips-‘**

“L-lightening?!”  The elf gasped in alarm, the thrill that coursed through him at the seemingly dangerous element equally as alarming.  A gentle buzzing joined the faint crackling sound Fenris heard across the line as he switched on the sex toy.

 **‘It doesn’t hurt, I promise.  It’s a sort of a- ah _fuck_ \- a buzzing, tingling, vibrator is the closest you can get to what it feels like.  Ah- I wish I could be there, wish you could feel what I’m feeling, so good- want to hold you and kiss you and make you feel _so_ good.  My fingers dance across your cock, lightly- so gently- that’s all you’ll need- ah fucking shiiit-‘**   Fenris joined Anders in a loud moan, violently jerking his hips as the smooth tip of the vibrator met his heated arousal.  He traced the veins and ridges of his swollen cock, the teasing feather light pin pricks of sensation at once too much and not nearly enough.  Fenris distantly realized he had begun breathing Anders’ name again and again like a mantra, and couldn’t find it in him to even attempt to stop.  **‘So beautiful- fuck- love the way my name sounds on your perfect tongue- love being your mage- all yours- _yours_ \- so hot- ah- I pull my hands back and hold just my index finger a breath away, gonna make you come without even having to touch you.  Just a spark right there at the base of your slit- ah!‘** 

Fenris reluctantly drew the toy away as long as he was able before using trembling hands to maneuver the smooth tip of the vibrator to the sensitive spot on the underside of his cock, at the base of his weeping head where the slit began, and found himself completely unprepared for the onslaught of sensation that sent him tumbling over the edge.  He shouted Anders’ name as white hot sparks arched and danced behind his eyelids and lit up his body with sensation, his untouched cock jerking wildly as he emptied his seed on his chest and stomach.  A lazy smile curled onto his lips as he heard Anders moaning and shouting in bliss right along with him. 

As he leisurely rode out the waves of pleasure coursing through his frame, Fenris took a moment to close his eyes and breathe.  This had been the first time he had allowed himself to get so physically and emotionally invested in sex, over the phone or otherwise, and the first time he had even dared entertain the notion of magic during sex, let alone enjoyed it.   It did not escape his notice that these wonderful firsts had one man in common, one charmingly silly cat obsessed golden mage that Fenris could no longer deny inspired warm and tender feelings within him that he had never felt before. 

“Green.”  Fenris breathed, a soft smile on his sated features.

 **‘Wha- what?’**   Anders sounded a bit flustered, not that Fenris could blame him, as he himself still felt as though the pieces of himself that had flown apart under the mage’s touch were still floating gently back into place.

“My eyes… they are green.”

Anders gasped softly, too stunned to dare believe he’d heard correctly.  “Green… your eyes are green?  Really?!”  He probably sounded more like a giddy child being told Satinalia had come a day early, rather than the spunk covered heap of sated grown arse mage he was, but he hardly cared as he waited for the elf’s answer with baited breath.

Fenris huffed a soft laugh at the eager tone in the other man’s voice.  “That they are my mage.”

“You- you’re amazing.  You say so many wonderful things about my boring brown eyes, when all this time your’s have been green… like spring grass and catnip and elfroot and emeralds and- and lots of other bloody beautiful poetic things that I’m too wrecked and not nearly articulate enough to convey!  Green… Maker I can nearly _see_ you, olive skin and emerald eyes and blushing ears… you’re _beautiful_ …”

Fenris lifted a hand and contemplated the white lines running down his fingers to crawl across his entire frame like a twisted spider’s web.  He sighed and dropped his hand to card absently through white hair that never managed to feel as soft or healthy as his natural dark coffee colored locks had.  Ever since Danarius had marred him, turned him from an elf into his personal plaything, Fenris had ceased seeing any beauty in his body’s scarred form.  It functioned as it should, that was enough… it had to be.  But the way Anders spoke, the sweet words he uttered with such sincerity and conviction, it made Fenris wonder if perhaps he might someday be able to see even a fraction of the beauty that Anders seemed to find in him.  He hoped so.  “I believe you are the amazing one.  That was amazing.  I could have never imagined magic being… like that.  You have given me much to think about, and I am grateful for the new perspective… I am grateful for _you_ Anders.”  He smirked and quirked a dark eyebrow, “Though I will thank you not to disparage my mage’s eyes, as I am quite fond of them.”

A breathy laugh escaped Anders’ smiling lips as he ran a shaking hand through his hair.  “Fair enough.  And, about what you said earlier… I’m not really sure, but the energies I have the highest affinity for are healing and lightening, so...”  The mage coughed awkwardly and continued, “So I’ve been told I smell faintly of plants, and- and rain?  Or that smell before rain anyway.  Oh, and I typically use the cheapest shampoo, which is usually some sort of coconut rubbish… though now I’ve made it sound like I smell like a blighted tropical storm…”

Fenris was faintly surprised to register tears forming in his eyes as his mage made an incredibly awkward and impossibly endearing attempt at describing his scent for him.  “Anders, I take your face in my hands, caress your bottom lip, which I _know_ you are biting again, and draw it out from between your teeth… so that I may nip at it with mine, run my tongue along your mouth and weave my fingers through the soft strands of your hair…”

Anders’ lips canted into a lopsided grin at the elf’s accurate assessment about his lip’s placement between his teeth.  He sighed happily and ran a hand through his hair as he took up the task of describing the tender embrace.  “Mmmm, I tease your tongue with mine, caress you and then draw away, making you follow my tongue inside my mouth.  My hands are on your back, stroking up and down your spine and holding you close.”

“Your taste is exquisite, I cannot get enough of you my mage.  I melt into your arms and breathe you in, wrapped in gold and sheltered in your warmth at the eye of the storm.  You fill my senses Anders…”  _You fill my heart, my soul._   Fenris shuddered and trailed off before he could fully utter his true feelings, forever holding himself back while Anders gave and gave.  Ever the consummate professional… ever the coward.      

“ _Maker_ …” he breathed softly, shaken to the core by the elf’s words, “I rest my forehead against yours and look into your beautiful green eyes, like a forest that stretches on forever, and I’m lost in the trees… I never want to find my way home… Maker I’m _lost_ …”  Anders swallowed down the thick emotions consuming him.  It was only when he registered the faint taste of salt upon his lips that he realized silent tears had begun streaming down his cheeks.  “I- I wish…”

“As do I my mage…”  It did not matter what the other man wished, Fenris was certain there was nothing he could deny him at this moment, no desire he did not share.  The feeling was as exhilarating as it was dangerous. 

“Well, I guess we’ve both got things to wish for… until I call again.”  Everything inside him was screaming.  _Tell him how you feel!  Give him your number, your address!  Tell him it breaks your heart every time the blighted dial tone sounds!  For Maker’s sake just tell him you’re in love with him!_   Anders bit back the words with a sharp nip to his bottom lip.  “So… goodnight… my green eyed gentleman…”  He finally whispered with a soft sigh of longing.

A smile lit up Fenris’ features, the perpetual flush on his ears spreading to his cheeks.  “Goodnight my mage… I shall dream of you until we speak again.” 

The tiny exhale of breath told him that Anders had smiled, and Fenris closed his eyes and quickly pushed the button on the side of his headset before he said too much.  Seconds later the phone’s base sitting on the kitchen table rang out loudly, signaling yet another Kirkwall lonely heart was in need of his services.  His hands trembled slightly as he pulled the headset off, the object dangling from his fingers briefly before he dropped it carelessly beside the couch.  The phone rang on and on, but the jarring noise easily fell away as memories of his mage’s sweet soothing tenor washed over him.  Anders’ tender descriptions, patient explanations, joyful laughter… and the imagined beauty of hearing “Fenris” rolling from his perfect lips led him gently into the Fade.


	6. First Date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all let me apologize profusely for the delay on this chapter! I have been dealing with a lot of unfortunate events in real life that both took me away from writing and took away my focus when I had a spare moment to try and get the words out. Thank you so much to everyone who has stuck with me through this, and thank you so much for every comment, kudos and bookmark! I am severely behind on replying, but please know that your kind words and support mean the world to me and help me get through the day :) 
> 
> I also want to give a shout out to therealmnemo for beta-ing this chapter, which I normally am too much of a coward to have done for me, but I really wanted this to not suck for you guys who have been waiting so long for an update! Thanks so much, you're the coolest mnemo!

**‘Uh- yeah- you like that?  You like taking my fat cock don’t you?’**

“Ah, yes, fuck- fuck me-“ Fenris recited absently as he scrolled through his email, “-ah, harder- fuck me harder-“

**‘Yeah, shit, you’re a greedy little slut aren’t you?  Just can’t get enough of my cock- ah- shit-‘**

The elf rolled his eyes.  “Yes- want more of your cock- give me _more_.  Ah- you’re so big- f-faster-“  _Junk mail, junk, looks like Varric is hosting a card night next week, direct deposit statement, junk…_

**‘Such a dirty little cockwhore.  Guh- gonna blow my hot load all over you- ah- filty little slut- guh- take it- fuckin’ _take_ it-‘**

The sounds of slick flesh sliding and slapping sped up, along with the volume and intensity of the client’s moans and curses.  _Thank the Maker._   Fenris took a sip of coffee and began the final act of his performance, starting with a keening moan carefully blended with hitched breathing, giving the perfect illusion of being pounded into by the boorish man on the end of the line.  “Ah- ah- yes- fuck- fuck me- oh- ah- so close-“

 **‘Yeah you are- ah- guh- you love taking my cock- fucking whore- fuckin’ dirty bitch- gonna- ah- gonna come all over your face- open your mouth- yeah ah- how- how many cocks have you had in that dirty little slut mouth- oh fuckin’ _shiiit_ -’  **Fenris quirked an eyebrow.  The man would likely be sorely disappointed by the true answer to that question, but luckily he didn’t seem to actually want one as his words mercifully trailed off into a long low moan, followed by a horse guttural shout punctuated by an abrupt click.

“Pig.”  Fenris huffed and pressed the button on the side of his headset to silence the incessant dial tone.  He paused with his finger resting lightly on the button, a frown turning his lips down as he considered his reaction to the previous caller.  Yes the man had had a filthy mouth, and to say he had been degrading would have been an understatement, but that was all just part of the job.  It was no business of his why such behavior got a client off, and it had certainly never bothered him before.  After all, the client was likely married or closeted and simply found the thought of picking up and fucking a male prostitute to be exciting.  A client getting off on a bit of dirty talk and an imagined taboo liaison was rather the majority of Fenris’ livelihood.  So why had he found this man, and indeed a great deal of his clients of late, to be distasteful?

Even if it were just a harmless fantasy, he hadn’t been terribly respectful, what with all the ‘whore’s and ‘slut’s thrown about.  It was nothing truly out of the ordinary though.  He was clearly not considerate, given that Fenris had claimed to be close to release and the client had hung up without a care when he had reached his own peak.  A vast majority of clients did the same however, and Fenris could hardly fault them for treating the experience like the business transaction it was and hanging up once they’d gotten what they’d paid for.  The man had not been particularly kind, or funny, intelligent… thoughtful, witty, beautiful inside and out… Fenris sighed as he came upon the rather obvious solution he had been obstinately avoiding.  The client’s biggest fault had simply been… he had not been Anders.

 _Anders, Anders, Anders._   Lately his mind seemed to be filled with nothing but thoughts of the mage.  _His_ mage.  If Fenris didn’t possess such faith in him, he would have feared some sort of blood magic had turned him into Anders’ thrall, so often were his thoughts consumed by him.  As it was however, Fenris was fairly certain his single-minded fascination with the man had little to do with magic and much more to do with his own fool heart.  It’s current fluttering state was never a condition Fenris had ever imagined he would find himself afflicted.  Love made you weak and entirely too reliant on another for your own happiness.  The pale shadow of the emotion he had imagined he felt for Danarius was enough to convince him that love was yet another thing only destined to cause pain.  Besides, love like they showed in the cinema, or like the flowing words he stumbled through in the dubious novels Isabela had lent him, full of stirring confessions amidst swelling music and kissing in the blighted rain… that sort of love was not for people like him.  He was too broken, too undesirable, too jaded for such wonderful foolishness.

Yet with each passing day, each fleeting conversation, Fenris found himself engaging in foolish behavior with increasingly alarming frequency.  He whistled sappy love songs in his idle moments, his mind absently turning over new absurd cat puns to surprise his mage with.  His thoughts were seemingly always occupied with Anders.  _What is he doing now?  Is he happy?  I hope he is smiling.  Is his hair falling out of his ponytail again?  Which kitten shirt will he wear tonight?  Is he thinking about me too?_

Fenris felt he should be disturbed by such co-dependence, yet bafflingly he found himself… comforted by it.  Anders was worthy of his trust and affection, a thousand times more so than Danarius had ever been.  His mage cared for him, truly _cared_ , and gave his wholehearted honest affection without hesitation or fear.  Rather than telling him what to do, what he could and could not be, Anders constantly encouraged dreams Fenris hadn’t even realized he’d had.  The elf had long ago resigned himself to growing old to the sounds of strangers jerking off over the phone, and while it was not the worst prospect he could imagine for himself, it was not the most mentally engaging or fulfilling either.  He had always been told that this sort of work was all he could hope to expect as an illiterate runaway elf from the Imperium.  Anders seemed to think differently however, seemed to think he could do anything, _be_ anything he set his mind to.  He was adamant in stating that there was nothing wrong or shameful about the elf’s current profession, but assured him that should Fenris desire it, he could work in a skilled trade if he chose, or in a shop or office, or even go to college.  _College!_   Such wild pipedreams had always seemed out of reach, but with Anders there to build him up and hold him steady when he faltered, suddenly anything seemed to be just within his grasp.

He had always found his job, his life, agreeable enough.  The work was easy, sometimes even fun, and it paid the bills.  Lately however, Fenris had begun to dare to hope for more.  He began to wonder if the freedom he had found in the walls built between himself and the faceless outside world hadn’t in fact become a cage he paced restlessly like some pitiful tiger at a roadside zoo.  Certainly the beast was kept safe from the perils of the wild, all the while it’s mind and body wasted away, languishing in the supposed comfort.  Was the same happening to him?  What would it be like to have a livelihood that challenged and excited him?  What would it be like to trade the false pleasures others paid him to provide for the simple social pleasures that others took for granted?  To go to happy hour with his coworkers at the end of the week, to not hesitate or come up with clever ways of phrasing it when people asked what he did for a living, to go on a date, build a relationship, let someone in?  His solitude protected him from those that would hurt him, but outside his self-imposed confines was a whole world of experiences he was denying himself.  _Anders_ was outside, smiling and laughing, shining golden in the sunlight Fenris had always shut out. 

What would it be like to awaken to his mage’s face in repose, to run his fingers along the new grown stubble on his jaw and feel the tiny whisker pinpricks on his fingertips as Anders’ lips twitched into a smile?  How breathtaking would it be to see his sleepy golden eyes blinking open and ushering in the sunlight of the day?  Would he be as warm and solid as he imagined, his strong arms wrapped around him a support rather than a snare?  What would it be like to simply see him with his own eyes, to smell him, taste him?  The mere thought of it sent his stomach fluttering with… what did Isabela’s books call it… butterflies?  A preposterous comparison, as well as a surprisingly accurate one.

Fenris yawned and closed his laptop with a gentle click.  It was quite a bit later than he typically made himself available for work these days, opting instead to work during the less busy daylight hours and enabling him to study during the longer breaks between calls.  However, Anders had yet to call, so he had waited up.  Somewhere along the way in a gradual progression so natural that Fenris had hardly noticed it happening, Anders’ calls had gone from a weekly treat to a nearly nightly ritual that neither of them seemed able to do without.  They were not always long calls, sometimes nothing more than Anders sheepishly admitting he wanted to hear his voice before he slept, or to tell him he’d been thinking of him, missing him, wishing him a goodnight.   Their calls took on a sexual nature only 2 or 3 times a week on average, the rest of the time spent simply talking, not as sex worker and client, but in the way Fenris imagined a couple would.  The way _lovers_ would. 

He frowned and shook his head on reflex, pushing away the notion before it could be examined too closely and found accurate.  He could not be in love, he would not allow it.  All foolish and wonderful romantic imaginings aside, at the end of the day what was he but a barely literate sex worker with no prospects and no future, and what was Anders but just another lonely heart?  _My mage._

The sudden ringing of the phone made him jump.  He glanced down at the blinking light and felt heat creep into the tips of his ears.  In yet another quirk in the growing list of foolish behaviors he found himself engaging in where his mage was concerned, Fenris surreptitiously crossed his fingers beneath the table as he answered, sending out a silent prayer that the voice who answered would be the one he longed to hear.  “Hello?”

**‘Hello my gentleman.’**

And just like that Fenris was flying, those blighted butterflies swarming in his stomach seemingly taking wing at once and sending him soaring and dizzy with elation.  “I had hoped you would call my mage.”  He murmured fondly, his voice immediately dropping the false sultry tone he subconsciously adopted for his clients.  “I missed you.”

Fenris smiled at hearing his mage emit a low pleased little hum that he had privately and somewhat fancifully begun to liken to a purr.  **‘I missed you too.  I’m sorry I’m calling so late, a friend drug me out to her bar for happy hour, on _karaoke_ night no less.’**

“You are worth the wait,” Anders gave an embarrassed little chuckle, and Fenris could only imagine he was blushing, “Though I regret I was not there to witness your singing prowess.”

 **‘Oh trust me, you don’t want to hear me sing! _Pounce_ sounds better when I accidently step on his tail!’**   He insisted, his warm laughter sounding out to soften his lowly opinion of his singing.  His laughter settled into a melancholy sigh, **‘I do wish you had been there though.  There were a lot of couples there… it made me wish… I- never mind…’**

“Tell me what you wish my mage.”

A wistful sigh crackled across the line.  **‘Well, when I first called you I was still getting over a bad relationship, and I was overwhelmed at the idea of dating again… but now…’**

He gulped, his throat suddenly dry and his heart pounding in his chest.  “Now?”

**‘Now… I think I’d give just about anything for the chance to take you on a date.’**

Fenris had seen this coming, had known they had been building toward this, and yet he still found himself unprepared.  This was not something to be played at.  Rule number one, underlined and bolded, you do not date clients.  You do not tell them your name, you do not share your appearance or contact info, you do not meet them or humor their fantasies of ever meeting you.  You certainly do not fall in love with your clients.  You do not, you do _not_ \- “I admit, you are not the first person I have spoken to that has proposed such a thing-“

**‘Shit… I’m sorry, that was completely out of line- I mean- of course you don’t want some creep on the phone asking you out while you’re trying to work- it’s just so easy to forget… I’m sor-‘**

“-and you are the only one I have wanted to say yes to.” 

**‘-ry and I- what?’**

“I- Anders…,”  Fenris swallowed thickly, not at all certain he should be doing this, in fact rather certain he shouldn’t be, “I share your desire.  If we could… if it were possible...” 

 **‘Oh- I… really?  Well, in that case… what’s stopping us?’**   He murmured shyly, his voice laden with cautious optimism even as it trembled with nerves.

How could a question so easily asked be so difficult to answer?  Because it is against the rules, as if that were anything more than a convenient excuse.  Because it may end everything they have, but it may be the start of something better.  _Because I may disappoint you… because you may change your mind upon seeing me… because I am scared…_ “I- I am not certain…” 

 **‘Alright, it’s a date then!’**   Apparently Anders had taken his statement to mean he was not certain what was stopping them, rather than being uncertain if he could go through with it.  Though to be fair Fenris wasn’t entirely sure which way he had meant it either.

A date.  He had a _date?_   Sex over the phone was one thing, but how did one date over the phone?  Venhedis how did they date in _person_?!  “A… date?”  The elf realized he gone from Fancy Steam Age Gentleman to about as eloquent as a Darkspawn in the space of a single word, but there wasn’t much for it.

Anders laughed, perhaps a little nervously, but still sweet and forever lovely to Fenris’ ears.  **‘Yeah!  You, me, various… romantic-y things.  A date!  I mean… if you want?’**   Fenris had not known it was possible to sound so excited and unsure simultaneously, nor that he would find it to be so charming.

“Alright…” he coughed in an attempt to banish the nervous tremor in his voice, “where are we to be on this date?  Dinner?  A movie?”  _Maker where else do people go on dates?  What do they do on dates?!_   Suddenly that mixture of excitement and uncertainty in his mage’s voice made perfect sense.

He laughed again, free and open this time, his nerves seemingly giving way to simple joy.  **‘I’d love to go either place with you, but that’s not exactly what I had in mind.  I was thinking something we could do right now, together.  Why don’t you grab something we can toast with?  I’ve got…’** clanging and rustling could be heard as Anders seemingly rifled through his fridge, **‘…a Deep Roads Stout?  “Fine Dwarven craft microbrew, direct from Orzammar!”.  Hmmm, fair enough… have you got something you want to drink?  Beer, wine?’**

“I ah- I have red wine.”  He answered, still not entirely certain what his mage was up to as he reached for a wine glass and corkscrew.

**‘Sounds good, well, I mean, I think all wine tastes grapey, so I’m not really a connoisseur, but as long as you like it… oh for fuck’s sake I’m rambling again!’**

Fenris smiled fondly and shook his head as he carefully twisted the screw deep into the cork and drew it out with a satisfying pop.  “I suppose ‘grapey’ is an accurate description in the broadest sense.  Do not beat yourself up too badly however, as I haven’t a clue what a ‘stout’ is.”  He swirled the deep burgundy liquid in the glass, releasing its subtle bouquet.  “This is a Agreggio Pavali, and a very good year at that.”

A faint chuckle sounded.  **‘I shouldn’t be surprised that my gentleman knows his wine.’**

“It was not always so.  When I was emancipated from Danarius, I gained all his possessions, including the contents to his wine cellar.  I began sampling at first merely out of spite, knowing it would enrage him to have one as lowly as myself drinking his prized collection, but somewhere along the way I suppose I developed a taste for it.”

**‘Lowly?  Says the intelligent and well-spoken trilingual wine connoisseur.  Maker, how did I talk you into dating me again?’**

“Well normally I am utterly repulsed by charming, funny, handsome Doctors with their own successful practice, but it was your damnable kitten shirts, I simply cannot resist them.”

The sound of stocking feet moving from linoleum to carpet could be heard as the mage moved about his apartment.  **‘I knew the day would come when my questionable fashion sense would win the day!’** He laughed triumphantly amidst more rustling. **‘My shirt tonight has two kitties sitting side by side with their tails forming a heart, and it says “I’ve got a good feline about you”, it’s my most romantic cat shirt.’**

“Undoubtedly, and though my plain t-shirt and flannel trousers fail to live up to the ambiance, I assure you that the feline is… _mew_ tual.”

 **‘Ah!  Two puns in one go!  Be still my heart!’**   Anders carefree laughter settled into a contented sigh, **‘So, I’m sitting on the floor, leaning against my bed to face the window that looks out on the Waking Sea… care to join me?’**

Fenris blinked.  “In… your bedroom?”

A wistful sigh escaped him.  **‘I won’t say no to that, but I was thinking more along the lines of a southern facing window in your flat.’**

Fenris’ eyes darted around his apartment, as though he had suddenly forgotten which direction the sea was, as though he didn’t already know the answer.  A heavy feeling of dread settled in the pit of his stomach when his gaze finally landed on the door at the end of the darkened hall.  “ _No_.”

His mage’s frown was audible as he answered.  **‘Oh, sorry, I always assume that everyone in Kirkwall has an ocean view, but if you don’t we can think of something else-‘**

 _Do not disappoint him with your cowardice.  Do not ruin your first date, the first blighted good thing to happen in far too long!  It is only a room, nothing more than an empty room!_   “No… I mean, I do… it is just…” His grip tightened on the neck of the bottle as he took a faltering step down the hall.

**‘Just?  Are- are you ok?  Talk to me…’**

_He is worried, you are making him worry!_   “This room, it was… his.  It holds… unpleasant memories for me.”  Fenris whispered, his forehead pressed against the cool wooden door, trembling fingertips brushing the polished metal handle.  _It is just a room, just a blighted **room**_ , “It is just a room… just an empty room…”

**‘Hey, it’s ok if it’s more than that for you.  I mean, I’ll understand if you don’t want to go in there.  It’s really not importa-‘**

“It is!”  He took a deep breath and struggled to reign in his rising panic.  “It _is_.  Danarius took so much from me.  He will _not_ have this.  I want to share this with you, this date that you have planned for us.  You try so hard for me Anders, you give so much, and so often I- I cannot.  I want to try for you… and for myself.  Even now I let him control me, reveling in drinking Master’s wine, cowering away from Master’s room!  It is empty and he is _gone_!  I want to be free of him!  I want to- Anders- I want…”

**‘What do you need?  How can I help?’**

“You are so strong in your convictions, so bravely and unabashedly yourself.  I need your strength Anders…”

 **‘I’m here.  I’m right here with you.’**   The handled turned agonizingly slowly, yet it still felt all too soon when the latched clicked and the door swung open.  The warm tenor of Anders’ voice soothed over the rusty squeak of the hinges.  **‘I know you can do this.  You’ve got my strength if you want it, but you don’t need it, you’re so strong already, you’ve come so far…’** His eyes watered and his throat burned as the stale scent of dust… of Danarius, overtook his senses. **‘It’s alright.  You’re safe, I’ve got you.  You’re doing so good…’**   Anders’ affirmations flowed through him, sweet nothings that somehow meant everything, holding him up and pushing the darkness back as Fenris made his way across the room to clutch the thick velvet curtains.  Fenris drew a deep breath and threw the curtains back.  Light pierced the darkness and stung his eyes, and squinting through the reams of dust he saw it, the most stunning view of the setting sun glinting golden over the distant rolling waves.  He scrabbled with the latch on the door and nearly threw himself onto the balcony once the sliding door had opened enough to squeeze through.  With great gasping breaths of salt sea air he felt his knees shake and give out, the adrenaline that had carried him through the ordeal finally expended.  Fenris pressed his back against the glass door behind him and smiled, a nearly hysterical laugh escaping him when he noticed the bottle of wine still clutched tightly in his hand.

**‘Are you ok?  Talk to me…’**

The elf smiled softly.  “Anders… it’s beautiful.”  The sun was slowly sinking below the horizon, painting the endless dancing waves in shimmering brilliant shades of pink, red, orange and gold.  Golden like his mage’s hair, his eyes, his heart and soul.  “ _Beautiful_.”

**‘What you just did… that was beautiful.  I’m so proud of you.’**

“I have you to thank for it.  You make me feel as though- as though I am stronger than his hold over me.  It makes me hope that… someday… perhaps I will be entirely free of him in time.”

**‘I’ll drink to that.’**

“To freedom.”

**‘To freedom.’**

Fenris took a swig straight from the bottle and sighed sadly, “I am sorry my mage.  I fear I have killed the mood for our ‘date’ before it has truly begun.”

**‘Nonsense.  You’re doing just fine.  There’s no right or wrong way to go about it.  I mean, it’s a bit unorthodox to watch the sunset together while we’re half way across the city from each other in the first place after all.’**

“I would not know.  I have never been on a date.”  Fenris admitted, his lips turning down faintly as his ears heated in embarrassment.

 **‘No, I don’t suppose you’d have had much chance.’**   He murmured in understanding, his voice tinged with a soft sadness. 

As always, Anders did not tease him for his inexperience, nor push for details when none were offered.  Fenris was aware that his life in Tevinter had been vastly different than those he had met in the South, and he had apparently missed many milestones of growing up that others took for granted.  Where many had ridiculed him for his lack of traditional experience and made him to feel as though he were strange, as though there were something wrong with him, Anders was not like that.  He had only ever listened with a compassionate ear and given him his understanding and support.  Fenris felt the soft warm feeling inside him spreading.  “I believe I am in capable hands.”

**‘Haha, don’t be so sure, I took my first ever date to Burger Arl’s!’**

Fenris quirked an eyebrow, admittedly intrigued.  “The fast food restaurant?”

 **‘Yup!’**   Anders chuckled fondly as he recalled the memory.  **‘I was… 15 I think?  I had the hugest crush on this boy a few years older than me, Karl.  He was a total goody goody, and I was a trouble maker through and through.’**

Despite his mage sharing a tale of romance involving a man that was not him, Fenris couldn’t help but be charmed by his gleeful recounting.  He smirked at the image of a rebellious young Anders sneaking out windows in the dead of night, “You do not strike me as the trouble making type.”

 **‘Not so much anymore, but you should see me come campaign season.  I’m a bit,’** he coughed uncomfortably, **‘ _outspoken_ about mage issues.  Though I try not to get arrested these days.’**

“You have been arrested?!”  Fenris couldn’t help but laugh at the absurd notion.

 **‘ _Maybe_ ,’** his mischievous smirk was audible, **‘But I thought I was telling you about my horrendously embarrassing first date, not my sordid criminal past?’**  

His eyebrow raised with interest.  “Very well.  Not that I would be opposed to hearing any sordid details you wish to bestow upon me, but perhaps another time.”

 **‘We’ll see.’**   Anders teased, making the possibility highly likely.  **‘Anyway, I _may_ have tricked him out of the CoM and hotwired a Templar’s squad car with a well-placed lightning spell to take him on a joy ride.’**

Fenris let out a bark of laughter at Anders’ youthful daring.  “Trouble maker indeed!  So with your beau in the passenger seat of your ill-gotten squad car, of all the places you could go-“

 **‘I know, I know!  In my defense, I was _15_ and not all that great at driving, considering I’d never done it before.  It was really a miracle we made it all the way to the Redcliff Burger Arl in one piece!’**   He laughed brightly.  **‘Karl was pretty shaken up and not terribly happy with me, but I was able to charm him over an order of Orlesian fries and Frostback Dew, until they drug us back to the CoM of course.’**

“Were you punished?”  Fenris asked with a frown, finding himself saddened on Anders’ behalf at the simple pleasure of sharing a meal with someone special being taken from him.

 **‘Yeah, but it wasn’t too bad.  We had to detail all the squad cars and have a couple weeks detention, but it was worth it.  I got a second date after all.’**   He sighed wistfully at the end of his story, the sad longing betrayed in his tone implying more than a simple childhood crush. 

“I should hope so, after the trouble you went to.” 

 **‘Any trouble was worth it for Karl.  We were together for- for a long time.  After his Harrowing he got a job off teaching at the CoM here in Kirkwall.  He was always a good teacher… so smart and patient…’**  Anders voice broke slightly.  Fenris began to wonder if Anders’ usage of the past tense was due to a break up, or something far worse.  **‘I went to Med school in Amaranthine, but we kept up a long distance relationship, until… until he stopped calling.  I thought he was just busy, tried not to worry, but then, I got a call...’**

“A call?”

 **‘There was an accident… or at least, that’s what the Circle claimed.  I know he was active in the community lobbying for mage equality, we _both_ were, and he told me there was a protest coming up… but it was supposed to be peaceful, they _all_ were… but the blighted _Templars_... the records of what happened were sealed and the bloody _Chantry_ won’t release-‘ ** Fenris trembled at the fury in the mage’s voice, even as his heart broke at the anguish that overtook it as Anders continued in a broken whisper, **‘either way, in the end it hardly mattered how or why, all that mattered to me was getting to him.  I got a flight to Kirkwall that night… but it was too late.  He was in the ICU, magic and machines keeping him alive but he… he wasn’t there anymore.  He didn’t have any family so I- I had to be the one- the one to decide to- Oh _Maker_ …’**

Fenris’ mouth ran dry, his heart racing as he gasped for words of comfort.  It was unfamiliar territory to be certain, but somehow Anders always managed, and Fenris would not let him down.  “Anders- I- I am sorry.”  He breathed, cursing his pitiful attempt.  He knew better than most how empty those condolences sounded when pitted against a soul deep pain.  “I cannot pretend to know how you feel as a mage, nor as a man.  Until recently I had never thought to consider the prejudice that mages faced, nor have I had a lover such as the one you found in Karl, but I… I understand how I would feel if- if something like that happened to you.”  Fenris felt panic bubble up as he grasped for the words to describe the tightness in his chest as he imagined Anders, _his_ Anders lying lifeless in a hospital bed, his warm voice forever silenced and the golden sunlight faded from his eyes.  “I- I would feel torn in two.”

 **‘Yes… I was, Maker I _was_.’**   Anders whispered before the soft sounds of weeping filtered through the headset.

“Anders, I-“ he stopped short, uncertain how to finish.  He was going to say ‘It is alright’, but it clearly was not.  His mage was crying, the man he had loved was dead, and all he had for comfort was an emotionally stunted phone sex operator.  Then again, moments ago Anders had told him it was alright, when nothing about Danarius’ abuse was anything resembling ‘alright’.  He had told him he was here, when there was a sprawling town between them.  Regardless, his gentle words of encouragement and support had eased his heart and bolstered his courage.  Perhaps it was not the literal truth of the words that mattered, but the feeling behind them.  “I- I am here.  It will be alright my mage…”

Fenris floundered for several minutes, whispering words of sorrow and comfort as his mage poured his grief across the phone line.  He worried it wasn’t enough, would never be enough, when Anders’ tears slowly turned to sniffles and the occasional hiccup.

 **‘Maker, I’ve really made this into a terrible first date for you haven’t I?’**   He tried to play it off with his typical self-deprecating humor, but even he seemed to realize he’d made a poor showing of it as his half-hearted laugh trailed off into a sigh.  **‘I’m sorry.’**

“Do not apologize.  As I have no experience to compare it to, this is, by default, the best first date I have ever been on.”  His lips twitched upward at his mage’s soft bark of laughter.

**‘Ha.  Touché, and… thank you.  For listening I mean.  I’ve never talked about Karl to anyone.  I wasn’t expecting… I haven’t thought about him in a long while.  I- I can’t let myself.  Maker, isn’t that terrible?’**

“Not at all.  There are some things, some _wounds_ , that never heal.  Sometimes it is all you can do to try not to fuss at them.”

 **‘Yes, exactly…’**   He breathed, sounding so tired, so lost.

Fenris wracked his brain for something to cheer his sullen mage, or at least take his mind off the freshly re-opened wound.  What did one say in a situation like this that did not seem trite?  What did one say on a date for that matter?  Fenris felt doubly ill-equipped.  In the movies, they often made small talk about inane topics like the weather, but the very notion seemed absurd.  Being the emotionally intuitive creature that he was, Anders had always deftly lead the conversation away from the dark topics that stained Fenris’ past.  Now it was Fenris’ turn to bring Anders out of the darkness.  His gaze was drawn back to the magnificent sunset.  The elf scooted back to lean more comfortably against the door behind him, the glass cool against his back in contrast with the muggy Cloudreach evening, and took a drink of wine.  They were meant to be enjoying the sunset together, perhaps if he commented on that.  “There… is a boat.”  He grimaced and pinched the bridge of his nose in dismay at his carelessly blurted and rather daft observation.

 **‘W- what?’**   The mage replied distractedly, as though lost in a fog.

Fasta vass there was nothing for it but to press on.  “A boat.  Off to the left.  Do you see it?”

 **‘I do!’**   Fenris’ sigh of relief whooshed softly against the speaker at hearing his mage seem to perk up at the change of subject.  **‘I wonder where it’s going.’**

“Hmmm, it is a small craft, likely a local fishing vessel.”

 **‘Well that’s hardly romantic.’**   A grin had returned to his mage’s voice, making it obvious that he had been teasing rather than criticizing.  Fenris would take either, as long as it meant Anders was smiling again.

He grinned and quirked an eyebrow, “I suppose Antiva or Rivain would better suit your fantasy of sailing into the sunset?”

 **‘Now we’re talking!’**   He sighed wistfully.  **‘I’d love to go to Antiva someday.  I hear it’s beautiful.’**

“That it is.”

**‘You’ve been to Antiva?’**

“I traveled many places with Danarius, and while the company left much to be desired, I did enjoy seeing different parts of the world.”

**‘I’d love to travel more.’**

“Where would you like to go?”

Fenris sunk into the sensation of Anders’ soothing cadence gently lapping over him like the rolling waves sparkling in the setting sun.  Anders told him of places he had been, places he wished to go, and asked about Fenris’ travels with sincere interest.  Talk of exotic foreign shores led to talk of exotic foreign food, music and customs.  Anders shared with him stories of his parents and upbringing before being sent to the CoM, a mixture of Ferelden and Anderfels customs that Fenris found fascinating.  For his part he told of Tevinter, or rather the things about the country fit for polite conversation.  Talk of his past eventually lead to talk of his future, and Anders once again praised his progress with his studies, as well as wished him luck on his upcoming GED test.  His mage spoke of his clinic; his coworkers, the patients, the things he loved about the job, and perhaps some things he didn’t love quite so much.  And of course, it just wouldn’t feel right if the conversation didn’t turn to Ser Pounce-a-Lot at least once during their evening.  In what felt like no time at all, a chill rattled through Fenris’ frame and he realized with a start that the sun had set long ago, turning the glass to a wall of ice at his back.  He gathered the now half empty wine bottle and stood, his joints popping from the prolonged period he’d been sitting.  _Kaffas, how long have we been talking?_

As if reading his thoughts, the sound of Anders trying and failing to stifle a yawn came through the speaker.  **‘Ah shit, sorry!  I’ve been picking up extra shifts at the clinic lately and I think it’s-‘** another yawn broke free, **‘it’s catching up with me.’**

Fenris smiled, utterly charmed by the husky tone his mage’s voice took on as he valiantly fought off his fatigue.  “Do not worry.  We have been talking for quite some time.”

**‘I know, it’s just- please don’t take this to mean I’m bored or- or that I’m not having a good time.  I’ve had a wonderful time tonight.’**

“As have I Anders.”  He smirked.  “In fact, this is without a doubt the _best_ date I have ever been on.”  Anders’ answering laughter was the sweetest nightcap on this already perfect evening.  “Though I must ask your guidance in matters of dating one more time.  Are there any other rituals I should observe as our first date draws to a close?”  He held his breath, a grin widening on his lips as he fully expected his mage to ask him for a goodnight kiss.

Fenris blinked as Anders surprised him once again.  **‘Well, there is this one thing, it’s… it’s kind of a mage thing… so I’d understand if you didn’t want…’**

“Tell me, and I shall see it done.”

A small gasp escaped his mage’s lips.  **‘Well, in the CoM we had this sort of… I guess you could call it a code?  You know the Chantry makes us wear the sunburst on our wrist, right?’**   Fenris hummed his affirmative, a frown twitching to his lips as he reflexively skimmed his fingertips across the white line unwillingly placed upon his own wrist, **‘We mages liked to ‘decorate’ them.  The Templars hated it, said we were blaspheming the Chantry’s symbol, which might have been half the reason we did it.  It was just simple stuff, usually a smiley face to cheer each other up, or if you were dating… a heart, or a symbol that meant something just to the two of you…’**   a sad little chuckle escaped him, **‘Karl used to draw this blighted cheeseburger, called it my ‘Big Karl’, because of our first date.  Maker he was such a dork.  I thought I was going to be doomed to spend the rest of my life with a bloody burger on my wrist... until it wore off for the last time… I never realized how much I would miss that stupid burger…’**

His brows furrowed thoughtfully as he considered what symbol would best represent him, something Anders could look to that would make him think on him and smile.  How could such a visual reminder be used for someone whom he had never seen?  A phone?  The very thought set his teeth on edge.  The last thing he wanted to do was give his mage a constant reminder of the miles of phone line and cell towers between them.  What then?  A smile curled onto his lips.  “A top hat.”

His laughter rang out like music.  **‘A top hat for my gentleman?  It’s perfect.’**

The blighted butterflies in his belly had re-doubled their efforts to lift him off the ground.  “And what shall you draw for me my mage?”

 **‘You- you want to... would a cat be too obvious?’**   He laughed sheepishly, his voice colored with pleasant surprise.

Fenris answered with a warm chuckle of his own.  “I would have it no other way.  Though, I believe there is one last detail in regards to dating that you are forgetting.”

 **‘Then I guess it’s lucky I have such a conscientious… boyfriend?’**   The last word was barely a whisper, punctuated by a question mark dangling on the tangible hope in Anders’ beautiful voice.

It was almost laughable, how his insides had been fluttering wildly all night, yet it only took one simple word from Anders and he was flying.  “Indeed it is.  Nearly as lucky as I am… having you for a boyfriend.”  A delicious little gasp shuttered across the line.  “I kiss you Anders.  I try to keep it soft and chaste, a proper goodnight kiss for my hopeless romantic mage, but I simply cannot hold myself in check.  My hands are in your hair and I pull you close, so close, my body pressed tight to yours, my tongue tracing your lips, eager to share your breath, your taste…”

**‘Mmmm I let you in, always _always_ … I slide my hands beneath your shirt and caress your skin at the small of your back, feeling you so warm and alive and perfect in my arms.  I can never get enough of you.’**

“Nor I of you.”

 **‘If I- if I call tomorrow night,’** he panted softly, his breath crackling against the speaker, **‘will you be free to talk?’**

Fenris grinned playfully.  “Another date?”

**‘…something like that.’**

His cryptic answer was nearly as foreboding as it was intriguing, but Fenris was hardly in a mood to deny him anything.  “I shall leave the night free for you my mage.”  _Every night, if you wished it…_

 **‘Ok, I’ll talk to you soon…’** a faint curse could be heard, as though Anders had held the phone at arm’s length to check the time and didn’t like the answer he found, **‘shit, I really should go.  I’ve got work... but…’**

“It is alright.  Get some sleep, and have a good day at work tomorrow.  I will be here waiting for you tomorrow night.  Until then… goodnight my mage.”

The smile in his voice warmed Fenris through and through.  **‘Goodnight my gentlemen.’**   He chuckled softly, **‘Maker I’m going to be looking at that top hat all day…’**

Anders words trailed off as he brought the phone down to end the call, and soon the dial tone sounded in his ears.  It was only when he reflexively reached up to press the button on the side of the headset that Fenris recalled he was not on his personal cell, as he had fooled himself into believing.  It had been Fenris’ first date, and quite possibly the best night of his life, and Anders would have to bloody _pay_ for it!  “Fasta vass!”  He cursed and hurried back inside, his second trip through Danarius’ old room not nearly as difficult as he would have thought, not when he was concerned with someone so much more important.  Fenris silenced the next call coming in and signed out for the night before opening his laptop to quickly fire off an email to his boss.

_Varric-_

_Just ended a call with a client.  It was very long, check the logs.  I tried, but I could not satisfy the client.  Please refund his money.  Thank you._

_-Fenris_

He snapped the laptop shut and let out a breath.  He felt a twinge of guilt at lying to Varric, who had always been more than good to him, but he would be damned if Anders would be burdened by their relationship. 

 _Relationship_.  That was what they had, wasn’t it?  Anders had called him his boyfriend, not ‘phone sex boyfriend’ as he had teased in the past, but _boyfriend_.  Fenris had let him, had called him that in turn, and he had _meant_ it.  Despite the sheer absurdity and futility of their situation, Fenris found himself smiling at the thought, his heart beating out of his chest in the effort to contain his feelings.  He rustled through his junk drawer to find a sharpie and carefully drew the most adorable kitten face he could imagine on the inside of his wrist.  Pointed ears, happily upturned eyes closed in a contented purr, triangle nose and a muzzle that looked to be smiling.  Just seeing the ridiculous little creature reminded him of Anders. 

 _I am his gentleman, his boyfriend… and he is my friend, my confidant, my support, the highlight of my day, my mage, my… my love._   There was no use in denying it any longer.  Despite his self-imposed rules and boundaries, Anders had found his way past them all with his awkward charm and kitten puns to handily claim his heart.  Anders had already opened up a world of confidence and possibility for him with his unconditional support, perhaps it wasn’t too much to think that even love could be within reach for someone like him.   

 

* * *

 

“Maker I’m going to be looking at that top hat all day.”  Anders murmured fondly as he hit the end call button, still hardly able to believe their conversation had just happened.  Their _date_!  He winced at the time clocked for their call, 3 hours 47 minutes.  Their _very long_ date.  Anders sighed and ran a hand through his hair.  He supposed there was nothing for it now, and it had been more than worth it.  _He_ was worth it. 

Anders looked back up to the window and found himself stupidly disappointed to see only his own boring brown eyes reflected back, rather than the pair of green eyes everything in him longed to see.  The phone’s screen dimmed and went dark, making his starkly lit features disappear into his silhouette and revealing the vivid neon and fluorescent glow of Kirkwall’s nightlife shimmering gently on the waves, framed by the sad reflection of his messy and painfully _empty_ bed. 

Suddenly, the dimly lit bedroom blinked into darkness behind him, the faint hum of a box fan in the living room and the pitiful clunking of his aging dishwasher falling silent.  A quick look outside still showed Kirkwall’s glittering streetlights and lit windows of night owls and insomniacs shining brightly.  Not a blackout then, just the power company finally making good on their threat.

“ _Shit_.”  Anders swore, hastily summoning a few mage lights to drift lazily along the ceiling as he went to find his most recent bill.  The giant red letters reading ‘PAST DUE’ made it rather easy to find.  He looked at the total and sighed heavily.  There was no question as to whether or not his beloved gentleman was worth anything and everything he had… it was whether or not everything he had was enough to keep this up much longer.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please also check out the Kanders companion piece to this chapter called "Have it Your Way" to see the full story of Anders' first date with Karl <3


End file.
